The Human Stains
by Claudaujay
Summary: Yukinoshita Yukino was just a teenager before she discovered the Death Note. Now, she is Kira: the God of a brave new world. Or she will be, unless two other Sobu High students, calling themselves H, have something to say about it...
1. Hurricane and The Game Begins

**AN: _When Yukino discovers a mysterious notebook with the ability to kill, she decides to use it to realise her dream of changing the world. Within the space of a week, the public has labelled her "Kira", and things are progressing just as she'd planned. Little does know that there are two others in Sobu High who are aware of the Death Note, and will stop at nothing to bring her to justice._**

 **I got the idea for this crossover/songfic/novella after both binging Death Note and listening to its _awesome_ musical adaptation. It occurred to me that Yukino's dream of changing the world is rather similar to a certain potato chip muncher, and 8man's sweet tooth was also similar to a detective that I know...**

 **Just a couple of things about plot and other general details- the story is set in the second year at Sobu High, before Hachiman or Yui had a chance to attend the Service Club. Also, both L and Light or any significant human characters connected to the original Death Note series don't exist in this story's universe. I don't know if Yukino's apartment has a balcony or not, but for the sake of convenience, it does in mine.**

 **Finally, about my usage of quotation marks. I was taught to do it that way since primary school: it's a form of British English and grammatically correct in the area of England that I'm from. Grammar can have multiple interpretations, just like how you have different spellings of words in America and England.**

 **So yeah, hope you enjoy the fruits of my labours for the past few weeks! I had a lot of fun with it.**

 **UPDATE: This section has been revised- mostly just proofreading revisions. New updates coming soon.**

* * *

 **The Human Stains**

 ** _Act One:_ Hurricane**

Yukinoshita Yukino was waiting for her family's limousine to arrive when she discovered the notebook.

It was about an hour and a half after the ending of the school day. Sobu High was a Japanese highschool that, from the outset, appeared as innocent and painstakingly normal as the next. True, the students that attended were of an intellect that exceeded the national average- students with lofty aspirations, looking to attend the best universities and thus open the door to the occupation of their dreams. Perhaps one or two of these students might be found on the National Diet in a couple of years, running the country according to whichever political agenda they found themselves most convinced by. But, in its appearance, in the manner by which the school was run, you could hardly separate it from the others in the city of Chiba, and indeed from any other school in the country.

This might have played into why this girl in particular stood out so boldly. She was the highest achiever in an array of high achievers, and furthermore, it had always been this way for her. Yukinoshita Yukino had topped the tables of class attainment in elementary and middle school; throughout her two years of attendance at Sobu High, the high standards she prided herself in had shown no signs of letting up. Her unconditional aptitude at whatever she set her mind to and her willingness to study was matched only by her striking beauty. Many boys, drawn in by the charm of her waist length raven hair and ice-like blue eyes, had rushed themselves into confessing to her, completely forgetting that getting to know her might be important. If they had paid even the slightest attention to her aloof personality, they would've realised the chances of her accepting their confessions were minimal at best. None had succeeded in charming _her_ in return, so far.

But such noteworthy prospects, while having their fair share of perks, could just as well be considered a hinderance. Jealousy was a natural human instinct; it moderation, it can compel us to change for the better, but there was something in Yukinoshita Yukino that always brought out the worst in her classmates. In elementary, she'd had her indoor shoes stolen on dozens of occasions. She had counted every single one of these thefts, but remembering them brought back other, even more painful memories. She had learnt it was better to concentrate on the present, or ruminate on the future, than to linger on the scars of the past.

Ambition often comes hand in hand with youth, but similar to how things had unravelled throughout her life in academics, Yukino's dreams also exceeded those of her classmates. She'd become convinced, more so by negative reinforcement, that humans were ugly creatures. Animals propelled by instinct and hatred and lust and greed. Everytime she glanced at a news website, or saw the headline of a paper, she felt the same bile rising in her throat. The same disgust. She saw injustice, and as pessimists often did, she failed to notice the accompanying silver lining. To her, the world was a clock that had ceased to tick before she was even born- a miserable, broken thing, in desperate need of repair. Yukinoshita Yukino didn't just want to rule the world. She wanted to _change_ it. To mould it into any shape, or form, that she desired.

Call it fate, call it destiny... but why is it that power always seems to fall into the wrong hands?

The teenager had just spent an hour at an after school club that, after weeks of pestering from the school's guidance counsellor, Hiratsuka Shizuka, she had agreed to help establish. Currently, she was the only member of the Service Club, and the work in question consisted of sitting around reading in wait for their first client. In other words, Yukino had much more productive ways to spend her time, but she couldn't help but admit it had become one of the more therapeutic parts of her routine. Reading had always been a fond hobby, and the Service Club room granted the peace and quiet to indulge in said hobby while also maintaining the image she embodied- that of a well meaning, hard working student.

Yet she couldn't deny it frustrated her at times. Reforming and helping students was an admirable objective, one that fit into her ideals, but she couldn't do much to change things if people didn't _want_ to be changed. She had been attending the Service Club for close to a month now, and not once had its front door been opened by anyone except herself. As a result, in her frustration, she'd decided to lock up the clubroom with fifteen minutes to spare. The limousine always arrived at five o'clock sharp, meaning she had five minutes of waiting by the school gates until it did so.

In the position Yukino was standing, she could see out onto the street outside the school building. Hit by a bout of uncharacteristic impatience, she began to pace up and down.

Then, she saw it. A flash of jet-black, in the corner of her eye.

She turned her head, glancing down to the bushes on the right side of the gate. There, almost fully concealed from view by the wilting autumn foliage, was the bottom corner of what appeared to be some kind of book.

Frowning, she walked over and bent down. At closer inspection, it didn't appear to be a school textbook that another of the pupils might have dropped in their haste to return home. She tugged at its edge, releasing it from the hold of the bush.

No. It was a notebook. A diary perhaps?

She turned it over, only to feel her confusion mounting as two words, penned in swirling white text, came into view.

 ** _DEATH NOTE_**

She opened it. On the back of the front cover was more of the same writing.

 ** _HOW TO USE IT:_**

 **The human whose name is written in this book shall die.**

 **This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name.**

 **Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.**

 **If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.**

 **If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart atta-**

Yukino snapped the notebook shut.

 _Ridiculous,_ she thought dismissively. This kind of nonsensical rubbish was precisely why she had already begun to lose hope in her classmates. Their sense of humour was beyond immature, and incidentally, precisely why nobody with a single cell of logic in their brain could possibly take them seriously. The person who came up with this joke, and then actually exerted the effort to make it seem even vaguely credible, had all the qualifications to be a NEET.

She stood up and returned to the position she'd taken up earlier.

A couple of moments later, she glanced back.

Well... credit where credit was due. Despite the fact that this little prank was painfully unfunny, and what's more didn't seem to have a punchline, the notebook itself was quite effective. When she read the so-called "rules", she had felt something akin to a shiver running down her spine. And, judging from the way the book had been thrown into the bushes, the reaction elicited from the first person to discover it had been similar.

Yukino looked over her shoulder. Was the laughter still to come? Was someone filming her, eagerly anticipating her reaction? Surely not. It was two hours after closing time.

She shook her head. _Just ignore it._

And yet, only a heartbeat later, she found herself picking up and opening the notebook once more.

 **After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.**

A very specific number.

...

Even if it was fake or not, Yukino couldn't deny that her curiosity had been piqued. She was a natural learner, and by extension, naturally inquisitive. A part of her was sure that she wouldn't be satisfied until she took a closer look at this "Death Note". Even if it ended in embarrassment, she had experienced a fair share of that throughout her school life, and knew full well how to stomach it. So, the item in question found its way into her schoolbag.

Five minutes later, the limousine arrived, and she returned to her apartment. Just as normal.

* * *

Later that night, Yukino found herself sat at her desk, with a copy of her favourite book in her lap. Her writing tastes were broad and extensive: she could be found reading anything from children's books to the philosophical works of Friedrich Nietzsche in virtually the same breath. The title of the book most dear to her lay more so in the territory of the former; a publication initially intended for children called Pan-san the Panda, though of course Yukino would hear nothing of it if someone suggested that a girl of her maturity should have outgrown it. The various merchandise of the character that she had made a habit of collecting only underlined this stubbornness- piles of plushies and models, all lined up around the headrest of her bed and bookshelves.

Her homework had been completed immediately upon entering her apartment, as had also become habitual for her. She had decided to spend the following hours re-immersing herself in the story. Though the words were as familiar to her as the air she breathed (she knew large swathes of the text off by heart), they never once failed to soothe her if the stress of schoolwork decided to make itself painfully known.

But on this occasion, her attentions were occupied by a book of a different sort.

After ploughing her way through another page, Yukino's eyes would casually fall down to the schoolbag, and in turn, the contents that continued to tease her. It took something of great magnitude to distract her if she didn't wish to be. Why had a find so seemingly inconsequential captured her imagination like this?

For around half an hour more, she strove to ignore the urge to open the bag, until finally it overcame her. The cheerful illustrations of a children's book were replaced by something of far greater consequence.

She opened it and glanced over the rules once more, again noting how carefully thought out they seemed to be. Each had a puzzling sense of plausibility to them, despite the staggering _im_ plausibility of the subject which they concerned.

 _Just imagine if this were actually real._ To hold a pen in one's hand and do something so simple as writing a name, and yet, to know that in that pen's ink lay a greater power than any human could possibly dream of. The power to alter, to manipulate, to _control_ someone's life, as if it were just an ant crawling on the floor. An ant that was just begging to be stepped on.

It was a fascinating concept... but surely only a hypothetical one.

 _Right?_

All of a sudden, Yukinoshita Yukino found herself picking up both the notebook and a pen from her desk, and heading over to the TV in the living room of her apartment. She sat on the sofa, placing both items on the glass table in front of it, and then switched the screen onto the news channel.

 _'_ ** _Breaking News: Crisis in Tokyo day care centre as man holds eight hostages at gunpoint.'_**

Her eyes narrowed as the story unfolded in front of her. The female news anchor, present at the scene, was the only person even attempting to keep a neutral face. Around her, the scream of onlookers could be heard, distorting the audio of the broadcast.

 _'_ ** _The man broke into the centre only an hour ago, armed with a revolver. He claims that he will shoot those still inside the building unless the police submit to his demands. The captives consist of both teachers and children, some under the age of five.'_**

She felt an all too familiar burst of anger surging through her veins. An anger at the true state of a nation that claimed itself to be civilised. A nation which let murderers and rapists run free. A nation run by corrupt officials who accepted bribes without the slightest thought for the innocent lives their actions could endanger.

 _'_ ** _The suspect has already been identified as Otoharada Kuruo, an unemployed man with a history of minor offences...'_**

Yukino lowered her pen to the page. If the notebook really wasn't a prank, then she already had everything she required to make use of it. All the conditions specified in the notebook had been met. She had a name and face, both conveyed on the screen, as if goading her to proceed. All that remained was to write, and in forty seconds, he would die of a heartbreak. Supposedly.

Just as the nib made contact with the paper, she stopped still.

 _If this man, Otoharada Kuruo, really dies... albeit indirectly... I would be a murderer._

Her doubts were shoved aside before they could assert themselves further. _You're thinking about this too hard,_ she insisted. This was nothing but a test, and a meaningless one at that. There wasn't a chance on this Earth that the Death Note was genuine. That much was clear.

And then suddenly, there it was. A name in practised kanji on the page. Otoharada Kuruo.

All that remained now was to wait.

Yukinoshita Yukino watched as ten seconds turned to twenty, and twenty seconds turned to thirty.

The news channel cut away from the day care centre and back to the studio, where a former police officer was being interviewed about the situation. The reporter asked if there was any chance of all the captives being rescued without casualties. His expression seemed doubtful.

Yukino looked at the clock on the wall. She hadn't noted the specific time that the name had been written, but she felt certain that forty seconds must have passed by now.

Nothing on the TV screen had changed. The police officer was still being berated.

Nothing.

She exhaled, though whether from relief or disappointment she couldn't quite discern. At the very least, now that the note had been proven to be a sham, she could dispose of it and continue with her evening. It bothered her knowing that she'd fallen for a trick of this kind. Someone from school would probably confront her about it, camera phone in hand, tomorro-

 **"Wait... I'm being informed... yes, there's been a change in situation. I'm deeply sorry, but we're cutting back to the scene!"**

Yukinoshita Yukino froze.

The picture being displayed on the screen was shaky; the camera man was desperately trying to readjust his angle. Finally, it came back into focus, fixed on the door of the day care centre. A group of people were exiting out the front. A group of eight.

 **"The hostages are escaping from the building! The police are moving in, but... but from the looks of things, they're just as shocked as we are!"**

 **"C- can you provide us with any information on the suspect?"**

 **"I'm not sure. We're trying to get a comment from the po... Is that true? Yes, okay, we've received confirmation! The suspect has been found dead inside the building! I repeat: the suspect is dead!"**

Her eyes widened to the size of moons. _W- what..._

 **"What happened?! Was the suspect taken out by the police? Did the hostages take action?"**

 **"No. As far as we can tell, it appears that the suspect just collapsed within the building. All of the hostages are unharmed, thank God, but apparently the suspect was shouting one moment, only to suddenly clutch his chest and drop to the ground. It's almost miraculous!"**

A heart-attack in forty seconds. Just as the Death Note described.

Yukino backed away from the TV, her eyes fixed on the name she had written. A part of her couldn't accept what she had witnessed. The proof had been laid down, as clear and certain as the reflection in a mirror, but somehow, it remained just out of reach. Just beyond the realm of her comprehension. She had always been a person of logic. A notebook that killed? Surely this was just some strange coincidence. An inexplainable trick of nature.

But to put this down to a coincidence, ironically, was even more absurd than to accept the book's existence.

Her hands had begun to tremble. A bead of sweat was trickling down her forehead.

 _Did I hear correctly?_

 _Did it really happen?_

 _Was it simply done by writing down his name?_

She couldn't look at the TV or the notebook for even a second longer. From nowhere, a disgusting taste had built up at the back of her throat- the sensation of feeling like you're about to vomit, and _wanting_ to vomit, only to find it trapped and unable to escape. She dashed around the sofa and over to the glass windows. Her apartment was one of the highest up in the entire complex, with a view that looked out onto the Chiba cityscape and, beyond that, the burning horizon.

The teenager tugged at the handle desperately, pushing the window aside, before stepping out onto the balcony. The evening wind lashed across her face, and she gasped, breathing in the air, the scent of it.

 _Killing indirectly,_

 _Pen and ink and paper,_

 _Writing it is the gun and I only have to aim,_

If one were to look at Yukinoshita Yukino without knowing her, it would be easy to assume the worst of her. She could think of so many who had done just that. Classmates. Teachers. Guests she'd rather she hadn't met at parties. Every single one of them had pictured a rich girl, soaked in wealth and spoilt from the moment she was born, incapable of seeing anything over the colossal size of her ego. They would think, no doubt, that someone so entitled had little right to feel inadequate or powerless.

And yet, for so much of her life, Yukino had scarcely felt anything else. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been underestimated, or accused of arrogance, or picked on. Her parents favoured her ever-so perfect sister. Her classmates favoured _anyone_ but her. This was a girl who, somewhere along the way, had gradually started to give up. Yukino's aspirations, though imperishable, were just that; aspirations. The cynic in her, or the pessimist or whatever you wanted to call it, had been quick to send her a niggling reminder. To give her the reality check that nailed her feet firmly to the ground. She had separated her ambitions from what she had perceived as truth. The line between them had always been stark.

Now, finally... edges were blurring. Lines were intertwining. Limits were crashing and burning, shattering to the floor like shards of glass.

She closed her eyes. To be locked away for so long, and then to be given the key without warning... was overwhelming. Overwhelming, but not quite frightening. If anything, it was the opposite.

And there that key stood. A small little notebook, on the table in her apartment.

 _Could this be the hour?_

 _Unimagined power,_

 _Waiting to devour who I say..._

All of a sudden, she had a vision. The same vision that had always glimmered, somewhere in the strangest corner of her dreams. These buildings that surrounded her, the buildings of Chiba, and the buildings beyond them throughout the rest of the world, were made of solid stone and brick. But, just there, she could see it. Her eyes had been opened. There were splinters in all of them. She could reach within and pull, and the splinter would become a crack, and the crack would become nothing. She would pull every single one of these buildings down, and she would start anew. A blank canvas, at last.

 _The hardest rain,_

 _The coldest winds,_

 _Are waiting for the hurricane,_

She could feel that vision reaching deep inside her. Deep into the pits of her soul, and then deeper still, selling it away to some otherworldly power, corrupting it and corrupting her, corrupting her fast. She was Eve stealing a bite from the apple; she was Faustus trying in vain to outwit Mephistopheles; she was Tantalus reaching eternally for the water that receded from their touch. But it hardly registered. It didn't register at all. That corruption had a voice. It was whispering to her. And it was whispering one thing and one thing alone:

 _'The world is yours…'_

… And Yukinoshita Yukino believed it. The world was _her's._ She was no longer a stupid little adolescent on a balcony. Yukinoshita Yukino was only a name, so small and insignificant compared to her true power. No. She was a _God._ She was the ruler of a brave new world, and once the imperfect one she inhabited had been destroyed... she would be _worshipped._

 _The earth will shake,_

 _The sky will scream,_

 _Once they feel the power of the hurricane,_

Where to start? Simple.

Yukino looked back through the window at her newfound weapon, blue eyes glinting. She would start with the people. All the impurities, all those unworthy of occupying her blessing, of the pristine Eden that was soon to take shape, would be cleansed. All the injustice and the evil would be erased, one name at a time, until only good remained. They didn't deserve to live. They didn't deserve it. They didn't deserve _her._

 _I'll bring the rain,_

 _I'll bring the wind,_

 _I am the mighty hurricane._

Up ahead, the clouds were shifting, turning the sky from a blazing orange to a darkening grey.

A storm was brewing.

* * *

 **The Human Stains**

 ** _Act Two:_ The Game Begins**

'Good morning class,' Hiratsuka-sensei said.

As soon as she spoke, Hikigaya Hachiman found himself sitting up in his seat. Usually, he spent the time allocated to them in homeroom resting his head in his hands, pretending to be asleep. However, one of his eyes, which were renowned for being similar to those of a dead fish, would remain open. Though it was true that he was no stranger to sleeping in class, there was another hobby by which he liked to waste his time at this point in the day: namely, human observation.

Hachiman was considered a loner by the entirety of the Sobu High populace, and indeed by himself. His refusal to engage in social circles was such that the majority of them wouldn't have been able to recall his name. Bizarrely, his anonymity was also one of his most notable traits. It was exactly this solitary nature that made it easier for him to watch his classmates; put simply, they didn't care about him, which made them easy to observe. Their riajuu lifestyle was of no interest to him in particular, but he found it oddly entertaining to see their interactions, and to immerse himself in who was in favour and who had fallen out of it. There were a few in his class that had always been popular, and would probably stay that way for the rest of their life. Hayama Hayato and Miura Yumiko, for example. But the others? All of them were equally desperate to cling to their ever thinning ties of social acceptance, and thus, were quick to pull each other down.

Essentially, it was a convoluted form of schadenfreude. Hachiman wasn't ashamed of the indulgence in the slightest.

Here, he was using the most personally lauded of his "104" talents for a different purpose. It was rare for Hiratsuka-sensei to address the class in this manner; usually, she would enter, take the register with a lazy disinterest, and then concentrate on her latest pile of marking. The expression on her face had changed from bored to alert. Grave, even. Hachiman decided that she had something important to tell them.

The rest of the class realised too, if a little slower, and the light hum of conversation faded.

'The prinicipal has requested that we hold a discussion in homeroom today. He thinks it would be better to speak of this openly instead of ignoring it, and personally, I agree with him. It's a matter of national significance, after all.'

Hachiman knew instantly what she was referring to. He slowly removed the headphone in his right ear.

'I am, of course, talking about the Kira case.'

The whole class went deathly silent. Their reaction was telling. For the past week, the topic had been hanging over everyone's head, balancing precariously like a performer on a trapeze. Hachiman had noticed the main clique's insistence on retaining normality in conversation, just as, all the while, the world raged in breathless panic around them.

On the Saturday of that week, there had been a sudden burst of deaths. Hachiman couldn't think of a more appropriate or eloquent way to describe it. Without any warning, criminals both in prison and out of it were dropping to the floor, dead before anyone could even react. Every single one of them had died of exactly the same cause: namely, a heart-attack. The similarity suggested that the fatalities were connected, yet the phenomenon was too widespread, occurring in almost every country in the world, for it to be committed by a single organisation. What's more, no one had claimed responsibility for the events. The killer, or killers, were operating completely in the shadows.

Early theories of it being the work of a mysterious new pathogen were dispelled by the regularity of the deaths. They took place in bursts, every day without fail, and all of them at exactly the same time (as reported by the press)- between 4 and 6 o'clock in the evening, Japanese time. It soon became apparent, though of course no one would dare suggest it themselves, that these were not isolated deaths. They were murders. And, most likely, all the work of a single individual, targeting criminals and criminals alone. The method by which the crimes were exacted was unknown. To all intents and purposes, it should've been impossible.

It only took a couple of days for the public to give this person a name. "Kira"- derived from the English word of to kill, or killer. By Tuesday, both tribute and protest websites dedicated to him were appearing all over the internet, in every language from Japanese to Spanish to Russian. Everyone had their own stance on him (or her). Some believed that Kira was a divine entity- the latest prophet in a long line to grace their world, determined to rid the planet of the evil that blighted it. Others thought him the very epitome of the evil that he was, apparently, trying to dispel.

Only one thing was for certain. Kira's kill count was rising into the hundreds, and showing absolutely no sign of letting up. Already, he was one of the most notorious and prolific serial killers in history.

'Now, I understand if you'd be hesitant to speak, but sometimes, I think the best way of coping with something of this magnitude is to do exactly that. So, go ahead: say whatever is on your mind. They'll be no judgement here. You can even say that you support Kira, if you wish.'

Hachiman's classmates glanced at each other, unsure of how to react. He, personally, was more intrigued by the words of his teacher. Though her tone was neutral, her arms were crossed over her usual white lab-coat, and her eyes had steeled a little as she gave permission for the class to express any positive sentiments towards the killer.

The tiniest smirk appeared on his lips. It was obvious what _her_ stance on the matter was.

'Y- you shouldn't say his name!' someone blurted.

Eyes turned to the front of the classroom, on Hiratsuka-sensei's right. The one who had spoken was a member of the otaku group, who spent most of their time on portable game consoles instead of studying. He appeared embarrassed that he'd done so, but quickly pushed his glasses further up his nose.

'We have no idea how Kira's able to kill his victims. I- if you say you disapprove of him, he... he might...'

'That's rubbish!'

'There's no way Kira that can be everywhere at once...?'

'He could be!' the boy insisted. 'If not, how else do you expla-'

Miura Yumiko scoffed, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently. 'Oh, shut up. That's so stupid it's actually annoyin-'

'Be quiet!' Hiratsuka interjected.

The class fell silent again. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

'If you can't be civil about your opinions, then don't speak. This is a sensitive subject, and we need to sensitive to each other in return... This time, raise your hand if you want to talk. Understood?'

No one responded.

'Nobody?'

At last, someone raised their hand. It was a girl with brunette hair, who hung out on the fringes of Miura's clique.

'Yes, Yuroshida?'

'I... I think that what Kira's doing is just plain wrong. No matter how you look at it, he's definitely a murderer. A serial killer, basically, and two wrongs don't make a right, y'know?'

There were a couple of nods from those who agreed with her, but nothing substantial. Hachiman could sense the tension resting between them, so uncomfortable as to be almost palpable.

Another hand rose.

'Sagami?'

She stood up. 'I agree with Yushida-san on the whole two wrongs don't make a right thing, but to be honest, I think that Kira's aims are really admirable. I mean, the murder is bad, of course, but they're still criminals-'

'That doesn't excuse it,' the boy from earlier interrupted, his voice sharp.

'I know, but...' Sagami suddenly seemed to lose her nerve. 'I just...'

She finished on a nervous mumble, before taking her seat again.

The "discussion" continued in this manner for awhile. Painfully stilted, awkward, with every participant unwilling to make a meaningful contribution. Hachiman watched with gradually spiking intrigue. It was rare to see humans exposed to a situation of this kind. Any conversation relating to Kira was bound to be taboo. People were naturally inclined to have an opinion, but they were equally inclined to seek social acceptance. Much to his fascination, the two were at odds with each other in this circumstance. Fitting in often required passivity. A willingness to compromise, and to go with any specific group's mentality. But Kira? Kira was divisive and morally blurred. If his classmates wished to articulate their true feelings, then they risked upsetting their peers. It was the segregation of a person's mind from a person's instinct.

If ever there was proof of the fragility of friendships, then this was it.

Unfortunately for Hachiman, it seemed that someone else in the room had also picked up on this. They raised their hand.

'Yes, Hayama?' came Hiratsuka sensei's response, granting him permission to speak.

'Personally, I can see the merit in both sides of the argument,' he announced, clearly and evenly. 'I think that what Kira is doing, ridding Earth of its criminals, is not undesirable in itself. But, of course, his actions aren't exactly pleasant, either. In other words, he's doing the wrong thing for the right reasons... but isn't it important that we all stay together in times like this, precisely because of our differences? I don't see how disagreeing is going to solve anything.'

Quickly, his words were met by a wave of eager agreement.

'That totally makes sense-'

'-you should be ashamed of yourselves, fighting like th-'

'-Hayato's right. Disagreeing won't get us anywh-'

'You're the best, Hayato!'

Hachiman averted his gaze, trying to prevent the disgust he felt from seeping onto his face. It was his policy, his mantra, not to draw unnecessary attention to himself, but he found himself wishing that he had an ounce of Hayama's charisma, if only so he could disrupt Class 2F's status quo once more. Those words of neutrality had given all of his classmates a detestably easy means of escape. Now, they could avoid the problem, and pretend that Kira hadn't embarked on a murderous crusade against injustice. They could convince themselves that their meaningless high school lives were progressing as normal, and this whole conversation was merely an added pinch of spice to their youth.

These people sickened him.

But, in his internal tirade, he neglected to notice that one of his classmates' attentions were not focused on Hayato. Instead, they were focused on him, and the expression which he had failed to suppress.

* * *

As was typical of high school students, Hikigaya Hachiman had his own individual rituals that helped him to pass by the monotony of a school day. One of these rituals occurred, without fail, when the lunch bell rang. While the others in his class enjoyed their packed bentos in their homeroom, or made their way to the canteen with the company of their choosing, Hachiman headed off to a little spot near the school tennis courts. He didn't do anything of note while sat on these old stone steps, in the shadow of a bicycle shed. Listen to the sound of the sea breeze as it arrived. Watch the tennis players challenging each other on the courts. You could guarantee there would be a can of MAXX Coffee in his hand. The excuse he used to justify his addiction to the drink was that its huge amount of sugar helped increase his thinking capacity.

That Friday, which marked a week since Kira's first victim, had been starkly irregular. For one, somebody had willingly approached him, and furthermore, this somebody was recounting to him a story so surreal he hadn't the faintest idea what to make of it.

The girl, by now, had finished speaking. She had dyed pink hair that, from a distance, would probably seem fluorescent. Her cheeks were puffed, bright red, and her breaths came out fragmented as she nervously awaited his reply. Though he had often seen this girl fetching and carrying for Miura Yumiko, he had only learnt that her name was Yuigahama Yui in the past few minutes. If his mind wasn't busy trying to make heads and tails of her rushed, hurried words, he would definitely be wondering why in God's name she was addressing him as Hikki.

His can of MAXX Coffee lay to the side, forgotten.

'So,' he said slowly, trying to gauge the appropriate way to react. 'You're seriously telling me that... that on Friday, you found a notebook by the school gate that, somehow, was supposed to kill anyone whose names was written in it?'

Yui pursed her lips, her gaze fixed on the ground. 'Hikki... I know it sounds ridiculous-'

'And then, for whatever reason, it was gone when you conveniently decided to come back and check up on it? And a day later, the news of the first Kira murders broke?'

Hikigaya Hachiman had experienced his fair share of ridicule in the past. The worst of it had come during his time at middle school. For a number of reasons, the "Hikki" of a few years ago had found himself identified as the chewing toy of his class. As the scapegoat, and the butt of every pathetic excuse for a joke that the people around him came up with. Suggest any insulting variant on his family name and he had probably heard it before. But this? This was quite possibly the worst attempt to fool him yet. Just how gullible did Yuigahama Yui think that he was?

'Yuigahama-san,' he said, hoping his annoyance wasn't conveyed too blatantly, 'did Miura ask you to say this? If so, you can tell her that she's going to have to try and awful lot harde-'

'It's _not_ a joke!'

Her tone of voice caught him off guard. If months of observing, quiet and unnoticeable, had taught him anything, it was that humans were proficient liars. They lied about everything; their homes lives, their friendships, their opinions and especially their feelings. Sometimes, they lied without consciously knowing that they were lying. Hachiman deemed himself better than most at telling when someone was doing the same to him. Strange, for despite his absolute certainty that this couldn't be true, Yuigahama's performance was incredibly persuasive. Her voice was full of earnestness and her face full of a desperate conviction. It truly seemed as if she was being genuine.

Either that, or she had a _very_ promising career in the acting profession to come.

'Even if you were telling the truth,' he tried, 'why would you come to me about this? If you really believed that this... that this "Death Note" was real, why wouldn't you go to the police?'

'I tried to tell my parents,' she replied miserably, clutching the sides of her arms. 'They didn't believe me. If

they wouldn't, then I figured the police wouldn't even try-

'

'And I would?'

She blinked. 'But... but you have so far, Hikki.'

He couldn't deny that.

'You still haven't answered my question.'

'About why I told you?'

'Yes.'

Yuigahama seemed to mull it over for a moment, and then mumbled something incoherent under her breath.

'What was that?'

'I... I saw you in homeroom. When we were having the discussion, I mean. After Hayato spoke, you seemed really angry. Anyone could tell that you disagreed with him. I- I still don't think I understood why, but... but I felt like I could trust you.'

Hachiman didn't believe this for a second. It was true that he hadn't approved of Hayato's little speech, and he found himself surprised that she'd be looking in his direction instead of the handsome soccer team captain's, but it was nowhere near convincing. If anything, him disagreeing with the Prince of Soubu High would be more of a reason for Yuigahama Yui to distrust him. He knew the kind of girl she was. An airhead, obsessed with image and makeup, all as vain and idiotic as the next.

But that didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't well meaning. He had never interacted with Yui or Miura's clique, so they had no obvious motivation for holding a grudge against him. Unless they were simply doing this to be malicious, which didn't match his impression of them in the slightest, he couldn't see why Yuigahama would want to make a fool of him. There didn't seem to be anyone lying in wait to burst out and crack the joke. It was only him and Yuigahama; they were totally alone, except for the dots of the tennis players on the court, a couple of hundred metres away. And, so far during his time at Soubu High, Hachiman had been very successful in keeping himself off the radar.

What if- _no._ That was crazy. He shouldn't even be considering it.

'If I did believe you, which by the way, I don't... what would you want me to do about it?' He scoffed sarcastically. 'Help you catch Kira?'

She fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

He stared at her. 'Please don't tell me you're seriou-'

'Well when you phrase it like that, of course it sounds ridiculous!' she shouted.

Hachiman was lost for words. _Catch Kira?! What does she think this is?!_ The story was getting more and more outlandish by the second. But, before he could voice his doubts, and possibly ask her never talk to him again, she was leaning in closer.

And, to his astonishment, her eyes were welling up with tears.

'You have to believe me...' she sniffed, barely audible. 'This... I can't get this out of my head. I haven't slept for a week thinking about it. I know the chances of that stupid notebook actually being real are... are so small that yeah, i- it would seem stupid and outlandish to you. I can barely believe it myself, but... but what if it _was?_ What if Kira really was the person who picked it up, and is really using it? I've thought and thought and thought about it, but... no one has been able to come up with a way for Kira to kill those people that made sense, but if the Death Note was real, then it _would_ make sense.'

She shook her head. 'And if it was... then... then _I'd_ be responsible. All those people would be dead, because some stupid girl decided not to take things seriously.'

All Hachiman did was look at her. Anything he might have said seemed trivial and ill-suited after that. The girl in front of him was utterly desolate, and comforting someone in that state was by no means his forte. Other people were complicated and difficult to understand; it was far easier to watch and judge them than to interact and sympathise with them.

But he knew that those were not crocodile tears. Yuigahama Yui had just poured out her heart to him. Her concerns, the emotions etched onto her face, were not a joke. He may not have been ready to accept the story, but he could accept that a living breathing person had chosen him to comfort her. Her reasons for confiding him weren't important at this stage.

He put an awkward hand on her shoulder, urging her to sit down beside him. She accepted the contact gratefully.

Once Yuigahama's tears had subsided a little, he begun to speak, slowly and carefully.

'I... I have no idea why you'd chose to come to me with this. I still need time to think about what you've told me, but I can promise you this, Yuigaham-san: I'll try to help you in any way I can. And...' He scratched his head uncomfortably. 'I'll protect you. If- uh, the situation arose.'

She sniffed, but nodded. 'Thank you, Hikki.'

They sat in silence for a bit.

'I wish I could give you a tissue or somethin-'

'It's fine.'

More silence.

'Um... Hikki?'

'Yes?'

She looked at him with round eyes. The remnants of moisture still clung to her eyelashes. 'Would you take my phone number and c- call me? When you've thought about it, I mean.'

'Sure.' The him of a few minutes ago might have panicked at the thought of having a girl in his contact list, but the word's suggestive nature didn't even register to him.

Once they had shared numbers, Yuigahama Yui stood up. 'I think that I'll head back to the classroom now, Hikki. It's near the end of lunch.'

He also got to his feet. 'Are you sure you're alright? Do you need me to-'

'Actually, it... it might be good to sit with my friends for a bit, just to pretend thing's are normal for a bit.'

'Ignoring a problem won't make it go away.'

She smiled half-heartedly at this. 'That's why you were angry at Hayato, wasn't it?'

He wasn't sure what to say to this, so merely watched as the girl walked back in the direction of the school, and then disappeared into its interior.

When Hikigaya Hachiman arrived back at his house, he paced around his room for approximately two and a half hours. His heart was beating restlessly, and his mind was spinning, shifting past possibilities and questions and answers to those questions just a moment after asking them. For the final two hours of the school day, he had found himself attempting to do what Yui had been doing such a magnificent job at: forget about what he'd been told. Every time there was a pause in the lesson, or they were asked to solve a Maths equation individually, he would steal a glance in the girl's direction. There she was, sitting beside a talkative girl with glasses without a care in a world, as if she hadn't just suggested that she had vital information pertaining to the killing method of the most dangerous person on the planet.

It quickly became apparent to him that the endeavour of feigning ignorance was impossible for him, and what's more, that it wasn't a tide he wished to fight against. Doing so contradicted all of his philosophies, and every conclusion he had drawn about human nature.

Then again, it seemed that a lot of things were being contradicted that day. The very notion of logic and reason, for example. The concept of a notebook with such terrifying capabilities, quite simply, frightened him. What was its original purpose, if it even truly existed? What kind of person could have created it? And most importantly... was he really supposed to accept that the ground beneath him, ground that he had always deemed stable and unmoving, was only a step away from collapsing in on itself? If the notebook was real, then it seemed to him that anything even vaguely conceivable to the human mind could've been real. Who was to say that there wasn't a God, or ghosts, or aliens on Mars, if there was a Death Note?

But, Hachiman mused at some point in those two hours, there _was_ a serial killer on the loose. A serial killer who, evidently, had the power to kill without being present at the scene of their crime. The existence of a Death Note... would provide an explanation for that. Kira need only write a name from the comfort of their own home, and a life would end.

At around 6:30 pm, Hachiman stopped pacing. Instead, he looked at the iPhone that was resting on his bed. Seven minutes afterwards, he picked it up, searched through his list of contacts, and called the number that he had been given only that afternoon.

He didn't have to wait for long.

 _'H- Hikki! I'm sorry, I really wasn't expecting you to call-'_

 _'Yuigahama-san-'_

 _'Before you say anything, can I just say something? I was thinking about what I told you, and I realised that it wasn't right for me t- to drop that on you all at onc-'_

 _'Yuiga-'_

 _'I know it's crazy, but I swear to you, it really did happen. S- so even if you're just calling to say you never want to see my face agai-'_

 _'I believe you.'_

There was a long pause. Hachiman swallowed nervously.

 _'I've been thinking about it, and I realised... there's no way that you could've been lying, not with how you... um... Well, I just want to know that you're right about Kira: I've yet to hear a better explanation for how it could be possible.'_

 _'... You... you believe me?'_

Her voice was airy, and laced with an emotion so intense it took Hachiman's breath away.

 _'Yes, Yuigahama-san.'_

 _'You believe me... I knew it. I- I knew that I wasn't crazy-'_

 _'Wait a second, I... I believe that you found a notebook, and that everything happened just as you said. You're forgetting that there could be a chance you were wrong, and this is all just a misunderstanding. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to accept that the Death Note works until I see proof, right in front of my eyes.'_

 _'But how else do you explai-'_

 _'I don't know, Yuigahama. But you have to understand that this is difficult for me-'_

 _'No, I- I totally understand, Hikki.'_

 _..._

 _'Thank you, Hikki. If you hadn't believed me, then I don't know what I would've done.'_

He swallowed breathlessly.

 _'I also thought about what you said about Kira. About how he could've found the Death Note.'_

 _'...'_

When an answer didn't come, he pressed on.

 _'You told me that you originally found it in the school grounds, right? And then you threw into the bushes by the gates, just after the ending of the school day?'_

 _'… Yes.'_

 _'When, exactly, did you go back and check to see if the Death Note was still there?'_

 _'About two hours later.'_

 _'So it was after 5 pm?'_

 _'Yes. I think it was about fifteen past...'_

He inhaled deeply. A part of him wanted to ask why exactly Yuigahama had been so compelled to return, but there were more pressing matters on his mind.

 _'5 pm is when all of the afterschool clubs end. Picture this, Yuigahama-san: someone at the school is about to walk home, or maybe they're just waiting for a lift, when all of a sudden, they see the notebook. They pick it up, just like you did. But, unlike you, they don't just ignore it. They're curious, and so they take it home, and then, just in case it really_ is _true, they decide to test it out. And then, much to their shock, the Death Note actually works.'_

 _'...'_

 _'This is all just conjecture, obviously. It could be completely irrelevant, but if the Death Note was gone so soon after you discarded it, then there's only a select number of people who could possibly have picked it up. Most importantly, they'd have to be in the immediate vicinity of Sobu High. Probably living here, in fact. Therefore, it's safe to conclude that Kira must be operating relatively close by.'_

 _'... Do you really think that Kira might be another student?'_

 _'I don't want to believe it, but if it really was just after 5 pm when you discovered it was gone... I'd say that there's a very good chance of that, yes. I'd go as far to say I'd be about forty, fifty percent certain that they're attending Sobu High. Have you watched any of the news reports regarding Kira's deaths?'_

 _'Y- yes.'_

 _'Then you'll probably have seen the specific times that Kira operates. The press say that the kills take place in bursts, usually between 4 and 6 o'clock in local Japanese time. That supports the conclusion that Kira is a student; as soon as they get back from school, they write names in the Death Note, and then they have the rest of the evening to do whatever they want.'_

 _'That's... that's totally sick.'_

 _'You're right. It is sick. They're treating murder like it's some kind've homework project. And what's more, it's moronic. Adopting routines and habits will only help us to predict his movements-'_

 _'Predict his movements? Hikki...'_

Hachiman cursed himself silently. He hadn't wanted to say that.

 _'You're talking like you want to catch him-'_

 _'Look, Yuigahama-san. You were the one who suggested it. And to be brutally frank, I can't get the thought out of my head either. If this Death Note is really true, and only we know about it… then do you know what that means? It means that we're the only people in the whole world who could possibly have a chance at bringing him to justice. We have the upper hand, Yuigahama. The only thing that Kira has on his side is the Death Note. He has no idea that we know about him, or the notebook, or that he's living and killing in Chiba. Like you said, we can't go to the police or tell any adults about this; we're only high school students. They'd think we were making it up for attention, or some bullshit like that.'_

He took a breath, trying to calm his nerves.

 _'Kira is_ evil, _Yuigahama-san. The way I see it, he's a sick-minded, delusional fool. Furthermore, he's arrogant. He's probably convinced himself that he's some kind of untouchable God, hence why he's already making such idiotic mistakes. The Death Note is a weapon that he barely understands, just like us, and he's using it impulsively. Of course, that makes him dangerous, but we can beat him, Yuigahama. We can outwit him. We'll have to be incredibly careful, but we can do it. The only way that we can prove he's guilty is by getting our hands on the Death Note, or by forcing him into a confession, but... no matter what, we can't let anyone else die.'_

 _'... I agree with you, Hikki.'_

Shock pulsed through his veins.

 _'I... I hadn't expected you to-'_

 _'Why not? Like you said, I was the one came to you. Actually, I... I think that it's our responsibility to try and find him, Hikki. If we let him go, then... then surely we're just as bad as he is.'_

 _'Even if we die trying?'_

 _'... Do you really think it could come to that?'_

He sighed.

 _'I don't know, Yuigahama. It all depends on Kira. We can't let him find out what our names are. If he does, we'll be dead in a minute. Of that, you have my guarantee.'_

 _'...'_

 _'Yuigahama?'_

 _'I don't want to die, Hikki.'_

He clenched his fist.

 _'Believe me, Yuigahama, I'm just as scared as you are. More than that, I'm terrified, God-damnit. But... do we really have a choice in this situation? A and remember, I promised that I'd protect you. As long as we're together on this, I won't let Kira near you.'_

 _'He wouldn't have to be near us-'_

 _'Then when we find him, I'll take every single pen in his house and burn them, right in front of his eyes.'_

 _'... Hikki?'_

 _'Yes?'_

 _'I'm... I'm glad that I told you.'_

Both of them went quiet. Hachiman was just about to say something more, when he heard a knock on his door.

'Onii-chan?! Are you talking to yourself again?'

He quickly lowered the handset. 'No, Komachi. I'm just on the phone.'

'... You're on the phone?'

'Yes?'

'Who too?! Is it a girl? Are you really being sociable?! Tell me everything now, Onii-chan!'

He tapped the side of his bed impatiently. Usually, he would be more than willing to humour his little sister's admittedly adorable antics, but the burden of the phone call weighed down his shoulders, expectant and demanding.

'I'm sorry Komachi, but I really don't have time to chat right now. Can you come back later?'

'... Just so you know, that was unbelievably low in Komachi points. But fine. I understand when my Onii-chan needs his space.'

'Could've fooled me-'

'Anyway, I actually came up to say that dinner's nearly ready! Come down or I might end up eating your plate by myself!'

He heard the sound of her footsteps, skipping back over to the staircase. Unexpectedly, Hachiman felt a rush of protectiveness for his little imouto, fierce and unrelenting. Anyone would struggle to maintain their perspective in the face of a threat as dangerous as Kira, but Hachiman hadn't expended much thought on what the world would be like if the serial killer continued their rampage. Somehow, he doubted that his life would be anywhere near as peaceful as this. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't have the time to appreciate the simplistic things that he took for granted, like Komachi's overbearing nature and her cooking after a long school day.

If he and Yui continued on this course, he'd be putting so much more than just his life on the line. But if they didn't? If the Death Note was how they were killing those people, and they let Kira continue... Hachiman wasn't sure he would be able to live with himself.

He raised the phone to his ear.

' _You still there?'_

 _'Yes, Hikki.'_

 _'Tell me at any time if this is too risky... but I think I have a plan.'_

* * *

'You still haven't said why you decided to accompany me today, Nee-san.'

The trip from Yukinoshita Yukino's apartment to Sobu High was a short one, even while walking. If she were to move briskly, it would take half an hour at the most. The journey was shortened to ten when taking her family's personal limousine. She usually spent this time in relative silence; the driver was far too brusque and official to engage her in conversation that extended beyond pleasantries. If a book she was reading had captured her imagination, she might use it to get through a couple of more pages.

Throughout the last week, however, Yukino had simply stared out of the window, contemplating the worldwide changes she had set in motion.

She found that she much preferred the company of silence than she did that of her sister, Yukinoshita Haruno, at the best of times. This time, however, her patience was wearing thinner than usual.

'Oh, come now. Is it really so unbelievable that a Nee-san would want to catch up with her cute little imouto?'

Yukino observed her sister's obnoxious plastered smile with scorn. It was obvious to anyone why her parents had chosen Haruno to be their little show girl, their idealistic protege, and not her, even when her age was not taken into account. Both of them were beautiful, but the beauty of her sister was rather more womanly and pronounced. Her hair was trimmed to her shoulders instead of falling down to the waist, as Yukino's did. Her bust was larger and her hips were wider, giving her a more sensual impression that, as far as she understood, drove men crazy. This was not to say that Yukino was androgynous, or that she paled in comparison to her sister, by any means. Yukino appeared as if she had been plucked from the bedroom of a particularly well-crafted doll's house, but her breasts hadn't developed to the size of her sister's (and were showing no indication that they ever would), and her waist might have been a little too thin for a fussier man's tastes. Yukino always had been the introvert of the pair. While Haruno was entertaining party guests with her sharp, witty conversation, her sister would be found in the corner, reading a book.

And her mother took such trivial things very seriously.

There was a time when Yukino, undeniably, would have to admit she had been jealous of her sister. Now, she wondered how she could possibly have been so foolish. To compare a human to a God was like comparing a fast food meal to a dish of cuisine.

'Yes. You see, I've had enough time over the years to realise that my Nee-san always does things for a reason.'

Her sister laughed outwardly, but Yukino was attuned to the more subtle of her reactions. Haruno's eyes had ever so slightly narrowed.

'As cold as ever I see, Yukino! Perhaps even a little colder than usual.'

In a flash, Yukino knew why she was here. With a smirk, she turned away.

'Ah. I see now.'

'And what exactly do you see, Yukino?'

'Nothing.'

Though she was faced the other way, she could tell that Haruno's lips would be pursed.

'Please try to be civil. Such poor manners aren't befitting of a woman.'

'Poor manners?' she said, pretending to be confused. 'If I insulted you then I sincerely apologise, but I really fail to see how I was-'

'You knew exactly what you were doing, little imouto. Don't insult my intelligence.'

'Then kindly refrain from insulting my own, and tell me why you're here.'

Yukino felt unbelievably satisfied at the silence that entailed her words. Haruno loved to hear the sound of her voice, and tended to dominate the interactions between them. But, those times were in the past. The snivelling excuse of a girl called Yukinoshita Yukino was gone. In her place was Kira, the saviour of millions.

 _Kira._ They'd chosen her name well. Yukino recalled the first time she had read the websites dedicated to her. Her actions were gaining traction and followers faster than she could ever have anticipated. People were beginning to realise the beauty of her vision-

'What are you thinking about, Yukino?'

She glanced back over her shoulder. 'Oh, the usual: schoolwork, the Service Club and such.'

The lie rolled off her tongue easily, but Haruno didn't appear convinced.

'The smirk on your face suggests otherwise. I've yet to meet a single person capable of deriving _happiness_ from schoolwork.'

Yukino snorted. 'Then perhaps you should expand your circle of contacts, Nee-san. I happen to relish my time at Sobu High.' Unwilling to continue this line of conversation, she shifted the focus. 'Anyway, must we always squabble like this? Please, tell me more of your own life, if you find my studies so tedious.'

'Oh no, you're very much mistaken. I have the greatest of interest in your-'

'Miss Yukino?' called the driver, pulling into a lay-by on the left. 'We've arrived.'

The younger Yukinoshita graced her sister with an infuriating smile of her own. 'I do apologise, Haruno. We'll have to continue this at a later date.'

'Wait a moment, little imou-'

Yukino was already stepping out and closing the car door behind her, leaving Haruno noticeably frustrated. The limousine drove off, and after tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the Sobu High attendee entered the throng of students making their way to the school gates.

Though her face was as stone cold ever, inside, she was seething. _Haruno, you pathetic little slut,_ she thought, imagining the feeling of giving her sister a long overdue slap, right to the cheek. Too long had Yukinoshita Haruno been trampling on the plans and ambitions of her life, and it seemed even now, most likely on the command of her mother, that she was still attempting to do so. She wished that there was a way of informing her just how quickly she had outgrown their petty disagreements of the past without revealing herself to be Kira. Sibling rivalry was no longer a concern for Yukinoshita Yukino, for if it were truly her wish, she could swat Haruno like the incessant fly that she was. Finally being free of the reach of her sister's shadow was an exhilarating pleasure that she struggled to find the words to articulate.

Yukino's research on her family tree during the past week had been similarly enlightening. Her mother and father had always been cautious when revealing details of their work, but it stunned her how quickly a Google search had lifted this veil. She had been fully aware of her father's position on the National Diet, but his questionable connections to various local businesses had been concealed from her. The volume of newspaper articles published that suggested without explicitly stating her father's corruption had been dreadfully easy to locate.

It had angered her so much that, for a heartbeat, she had found her pen lowering towards a page of the Death Note.

She resisted the impulse eventually, of course. Her parents influence in Chiba could still be of significant use to her.

The sight that greeted Yukino when she reached the school gate was, typically, a predictable one. The hundreds of students who shared her misery in attending Sobu High would be milling around the front of the school, all separated into their hierarchies and pointless groupings. Their chatter was astonishingly tiresome, so Yukino preferred to head straight to her classroom and prepare for the day's lessons even before the school bell had rung out across the site. Her attendance record, like most things about her, was spotless; she had only be prevented from arriving on time by sickness or prior arrangements made by her family that, much to her chagrin, were unavoidable. Not much was different on the Monday that marked her second week after discovering the Death Note. Not much, except for a cluster of students all gathered around the double glass doors to the building.

Unperturbed, she continued on, picking her way through the throngs of people. She was expecting their reason for gathering like lemmings to be as ridiculous as always. But, as her approach brought her closer and their words became clearer, the beginnings of a frown appeared on her lips.

'What do you think it means?'

'Are we supposed to laugh or something? 'Cause it really isn't funny-'

'I can't believe somebody would actually write this...'

Yukino made her way up the small flight of steps, trying to see over the shoulders of those in front of her and catch a glimpse at what they were talking about. _Whatever it is,_ she thought irritably, _they're getting in my way-_

Yukino's blood went cold.

There, stuck onto the glass doors, was a piece of A3 paper. It was empty, except for five words, right in the centre, typed in bold black text.

 **KIRA IS HERE!**

 **YOURS TRULY, H**

She stared at the words. Her legs had gone stiff, held in place by momentary panic. _What... what is that supposed to mean?_ The poster seemed as if it was addressed. Addressed to her personally. But if that was the case, that would mean that the person responsible for this knew that she was Kira. And what's more, it wouldn't make sense to put up the poster outside the school unless this person, this "H", knew without a shadow of doubt that she went to Sobu High.

Then, the moment passed. The wheels in Yukino's mind finally begun to spin, taking over from her emotions and considering the situation rationally. She read the words once more. **KIRA IS HERE! YOURS TRULY, H.** She had been right to ask what they meant, because in actuality, they didn't mean anything at all. There was nothing to suggest that the person who'd typed it was aware that Yukino specifically was Kira, or that they knew for a fact Kira was going to the school. It was more likely to be a general, anonymous show of support for Kira than an accusation directed towards her. True, the phrasing was odd. Provocative even, and it seemed far too wild a coincidence for someone to choose Sobu High of all places to put the poster up, but certainly not beyond the realms of possibility.

Yukino stole a quick glance over her shoulder. It wouldn't make sense for someone outside of the school to pick out Sobu High willingly, instead of somewhere more public and easily accessible. Therefore, it was more likely to be the work of a fellow student. How was she supposed to take this? Should she accept the more probable explanation, that being the poster was unconnected to her work as Kira, or the one that bordered on inconceivable: that they were sending her a message?

Before she could mull it over any further, a familiar loud voice assaulted her eardrums. The school's guidance councillor, Hiratsuka-sensei, had entered through the gates only a little after Yukino, and noticed the disturbance.

'Come on then,' she declared, sounding annoyed. 'What is it this time?'

The students parted, allowing the teacher to make her way through. She stopped upon taking in the poster, and her scowl only deepened.

'Wow, that really is hilarious,' she said, ripping the poster off the doors. 'Does anyone have an idea who might have put this up?'

'No sensei,' they chorused, all looking a little sheepish.

'Go and get to class then. I've had enough of you lot already,' she added.

Yukino presumed that they weren't supposed to have heard the last part, but in the two years that they'd known each other, Hiratsuka had proven herself to be the worst whisperer she had ever encountered.

Yukino followed suit with the rest into the building. All the while, her thoughts continued to rage over the message (if it was deserving of that label). She desperately wanted to pass off this person, H, as yet another positive in her schemes. So far, her plans as Kira had gone so smoothly that, at times, Yukino had found herself wondering just when she would be forced to leap the first hurdle. To wish for opposition to her cause would have been foolish, but she'd been fully prepared for it. Yukino's pride wouldn't allow her to admit it, but her shock indicated that, so far, she had been lulled into a false sense of security, which annoyed her to end.

Yukino couldn't legislate for whether H would prove to be an ally or a nuisance. There was a chance that they would never rear their head again, but Yukino wouldn't bet on it. It was better to practice caution than to regret it at a later date.

It wasn't a worry for her regardless. All Kira required was a name to eradicate them.

That summoned the smile back to her lips.

* * *

The plan, which Hachiman had told Yuigahama on Friday evening, was a good one in theory. Difficult to execute, and riddled with possible tripping points, but there were no high rewards without high risk. A mistake would have been catastrophic, but the same could be said of any mistake when dealing with Kira, no matter how small.

 _Empty your mind of any theories,_

 _Till all the facts are in,_

 _Start at the end of all your queries,_

 _To learn where things begin,_

The two main objectives were simple, but pivotal; they needed to find out, or at least come up with a list of suspects as to who Kira might be, without giving away to that individual that they knew about their location or about the Death Note. Therefore, Hachiman concluded that, ideally, they would need a plan that didn't necessitate the showing of their faces. Yui had told him everything that she could remember about the rules on the front cover of the Death Note. Though recollection of all of them had been understandably beyond her, she informed him that Kira also needed to have the face of a criminal in mind. This meant it would have been suicidal to reveal themselves, or to use their real names, as Kira could quite quickly have identified them from their school records. Not that they would have a chance to do such a thing, as the only information they had about Kira was that they were living in Chiba, and possibly attending Sobu High. The population of their home city had recently exceeded one million.

So, he naturally decided to focus on the only lead that they had. Almost everyone in the school attended an after school club of some sort, so narrowing down by that method wouldn't have got them anywhere. However, if they could prove unconditionally that Kira was a student, or related to a member of the student body, then they wouldn't have to fret over braving the storm of that statistic. They needed something concrete, or at the very least, something suggestive that they could follow up on, and the only person who could give them that was Kira themselves. They needed to provoke them in some way. To send them a message. Hachiman was conscious that surprise could well be their greatest advantage over Kira, and that they needed to sustain that for as long as possible, so it couldn't be too obvious. It had to be enough to make them paranoid and easy to single out, but not enough to draw attention to themselves.

 _The calculus of a solution,_

 _While changing stays the same,_

 _The strength of mind and evolution,_

 _Determines who wins the game,_

It was Yuigahama who smoothed out the edges around his plan, and brought it close to fool proof. Upon mention of his dilemma, that being how it it was possible to address someone they didn't know, she pointed out that they didn't need to. Instead, they could address the entirety of Sobu High. She suggested putting their message on one of the noticeboards, but Hachiman took things a step further. A poster, on the front doors of the school: the only place that, without exception, every student was guaranteed to see.

They typed up the message on A3 paper- **KIRA IS HERE!** \- and arrived early on Monday to put it up. Hachiman decided to sign it anonymously at the last minute. That gave Kira a greater impression of an adversary. Someone to project their fear onto (presuming things went as planned). H. His own initial. Sometimes, the best way to hide was in plain sight.

Then, all they had to do was wait for someone to take the bait. Hachiman and Yui positioned themselves at opposite sides of the courtyard, partly so that they could cover multiple angles on those entering through the gate and ensure their counterpart didn't miss anything, and partly so Kira wouldn't get the slightest hint they were associated with each other.

 _I poke and prod to find the weakness,_

 _Where the bend becomes the break,_

 _And make the most of Kira's first mistake,_

For close to half an hour, nothing happened. Or nothing they could see, Hachiman supposed. Students came in and noticed the poster immediately (you'd have to be blind not to), but apart from spouting out vague speculations on its purpose, the pair of them didn't see anyone react in a way that Kira might.

When Yukinoshita Yukino arrived, a great deal of people looked her way, including Hachiman. This wasn't out of the ordinary. The "Ice Queen" of Sobu High was a common target for widely untrue rumours in the school. He knew from these rumours alone that Yukinoshita Yukino was top of the class in virtually every subject. She was something of a child prodigy, and had the work ethic to complement it. She was the youngest daughter of one of the richest and most powerful families in the whole region. Everything from her staggering good looks to her (as reported) endless stream of crushing verbal quips breathed of royalty. Her posture, the confident manner in which she strode forward, were just as regal. She walked as if she owned the schoo- no, not just that. She walked as if she owned the whole _world._

Very few of the boys beside Hachiman seemed to be as concerned by Yukinoshita Yukino's imposing self-confidence, though. Every time her skirt swished in the breeze, he swore he heard another heart break.

He was about to look away for fear of being similarly drawn in, but then, Yukino reached the stone steps that led up to the message. Then, she saw it. Then, her eyes widened.

Then, he knew. He just knew.

 _The game begins the same way,_

 _The chase is on, the die is cast,_

 _I'll sift a thousand pixels,_

 _Until I chase you down at last,_

After the poster had been taken down and Yukino had headed off to her classroom, Yui walked over to him. She stopped, just close enough to whisper.

'Did you see it too, Hikki?'

'Yes,' he nodded. 'It's her.'

Yui looked stunned. 'How… how do you know?'

'I don't.' Her astonishment turned to confusion, so he elaborated, 'There's no definitive proof. Anyone would be a little unsettled by seeing a poster like that, but... that wasn't the same. She was frightened. Just for a moment, but it was there. You _must've_ seen it.'

'... Yes, bu-'

'She's Kira, Yuigahama. I... there's still only a fraction of a chance that she is without proof, but it's higher than for anyone else we saw today. She's at Sobu High, just like we said. I'd bet you anything that she goes to an after school club as well. Probably the president of one. The Yukinoshitas are rich, and you can tell she's arrogant just from the way she holds herself. Everything fits.'

Yui took a moment to respond. 'It's still just a hunch, Hikki. We still need to be caref-'

'Of course. I never said we wouldn't be.' His dead fish eyes contracted. 'But currently, she's our only suspect. We _have_ to follow up on her. You can't deny that.'

'... No. I can't.'

 _Yukinoshita Yukino, hm?_ he thought. _The Ice Queen? Kira? Just what should I call, you exactly?_

It didn't really matter what this girl _wanted_ to be called. All that mattered was that she was a criminal. A serial killer, who deserved a taste of the "justice" she was presumptuous enough to mete out.

And him and Yuigahama, "H", would be the ones to bring her to it.

 _The game begins._


	2. Stalemate

**Author's Note: Thanks for all your responses to the first two parts of the story! I really appreciate that people seem to be enjoying it. It's equally enjoyable to write, although it can be pretty time consuming considering the length of the project, but oh well. :P Here's Part Three of The Human Stains, which racks up over 15,000 words. O_O**

 **UPDATE: This section has been revised- mostly just proofreading revisions. New updates coming soon.**

* * *

 **The Human Stains**

 ** _Act Three:_ Stalemate**

It only took Yukinoshita Yukino a couple of days to return to the state of relative ease that she had been in before the appearance of H. It took far less time for her to realise that she hugely disliked having to be more careful, and to censor her activities somewhat. Not necessarily because it meant that she wasn't quite as in control of the Kira situation as she had assumed (although this was definitely a source of annoyance, albeit partial); more so, it could be attributed to the fact that it was simply inconvenient. All of a sudden, she found herself enforcing a series of additional safety precautions, in addition to the logical ones that she had already made before progressing with the murders.

Many of these came about as a result of her experiments with the Death Note, which she'd been performing, one or two every night, since the first Saturday after its discovery. These had led to several findings which Yukino was certain would come in handy at some stage, and she had been proven right: the Death Note, in addition to the method by which someone died, could be used to control the time and place of a kill as well. What's more, Kira discovered that any part of the notebook, even if ripped off, assumed the same power as the rest of it. She used this to her advantage- from now on, Yukino would keep a slip of the Death Note on her person at all times, kept hidden within a secret inside pocket of her school blazer. If H revealed themselves intentionally or unintentionally, then she could bring about their fate at a moments notice, and in a fashion that didn't implicate either her school persona or Kira. A car accident, perhaps.

Those these changes may have been arbitrary, Yukino conceded that she was also somewhat grateful for them, and by extension, H. They ensured the continuation of her operations in the future, and helped her to realise and amend the few mistakes that, previously, she had overlooked. She exploited her ability to alter the time of death so that criminals died throughout the school day instead of in bursts between 4 and 6 o'clock, which might have given H a clue that was a high school student. However, Yukino found herself at loss, even after much deliberation, as to how H could possibly have figured out she was attending Sobu High. There was the possibility that someone had picked up the Death Note before her, as she recalled that it appeared to have been thrown into the bushes by the school gates, but if so, why had they taken so long to react to her actions as Kira? To surprise her when they _did_ confront her? Surely that was too intricate. In addition, they would probably have to be another member of Sobu High for that to be the case, and she thought it unlikely that someone else of her age group would be capable of such a daring manipulation.

They would have to be as intelligent, if not more so, than _her._ It may have been arrogant, but Yukino wasn't ready to accept that. Her grades were higher than anyone in her year, and indeed higher than anyone in the year above. She had gone as far as to double check, just to be sure.

A secret genius, perhaps? Maybe, but Yukino didn't want to jump to conclusions. There was still a chance that H didn't exist, and the fuss she was making over the poster was futile. She refused to let herself- a God, a divine entity- be intimidated by a mere mortal.

It still bothered her though. She was sat on her chair in the Service Club room, iPhone in hand, using it track the latest press releases on the kills of yesterday. It was Wednesday, marking the second day throughout which her thoughts had been troubled. Though Kira's retribution was obviously a far higher priority for Yukino, she still considered the aim of the Service Club to be a valid one. Those that were well meaning, upstanding citizens in this world were the very same that she wished to inhabit her own. When she was ruler, she intended to help them to improve themselves, and become as virtuous as they could be; this was as good a place as any to start.

She reached over to the table and picked up her perfectly brewed mug of green tea. _If these people knew that I was Kira, they would be lining up for my wisdom,_ she mused, sipping it idly.

A knock sounded on the door, and then it slid aside, much to Yukino's surprise. The face of another student appeared in the frame. Yukino recognised her (she had made a habit of memorising the faces of most in her year) as Yuigahama Yui, of Class 2F. The girl had short hair dyed a controversial shade of pink, rather disorganised school uniform which only helped to emphasise her generous bust, and an expression of clear nervousness.

'Y- yahallo,' she said, glancing from side to side. 'Is this the Service Club?'

The raven haired girl faced remained as cool as ever, but she couldn't deny the tiniest flutter of excitement in her stomach. It had been several months since Hiratsuka-sensei had established the Service Club, and not once in that time had they received a client. Her objective as Kira was to help and change the world. To make a difference. To do that as Yukinoshita Yukino, regardless of the much reduced scale, regardless if that help was just for one individual, was still a privilege.

Besides, she thought she could safely conclude that someone of Yuigahama Yui's evident _lack_ of intelligence was not H.

'Yes,' she answered clearly, switching off her iPhone. 'My name is Yukinoshita Yukino; I'm the Service Club president.'

'Are you the only member?'

'Thus far, yes. You're Yuigahama Yui-san, if I'm not mistaken?'

She seemed a little surprised that Yukino knew who she was, but nodded. She closed the door behind her and stepped inside.

'I- is there anywhere I can-'

'Bring a chair over,' the Service Club president said smoothly, hoping to soothe her nerves. 'I assume Hiratsuka-sensei briefed you of this club's purpose?'

'Yes, but... how did you know that Hiratsuka-sensei sent me?'

'You happen to be our first ever request. I suspected it would be my co-founder that finally encouraged someone to come.' She tucked a free strand of hair behind her ear. 'So, did she inform you?'

'She said that you would grant student's wishes...?'

'Wrong. The Service Club is not a genie that caters for your every whim. Instead, we teach you so that you need never wish again.'

Yui seemed a little daunted by her brusque words. Yukino reminded herself that she needed to be gentler with simpletons.

'But please, do sit down. I'd be very interested to hear why you've come.'

'Alright.'

Once they were both seated, Yukino placed both her hands on her lap primly. 'So, why were you directed here, Yuigahama-san?'

She hesitated. 'Um, sorry Yukinon- I can call you Yukinon, right?'

'It's a little... perky, but I suppose if you're comfortable with it, then yes.'

'Well Yukinon, it's a bit embarrassing, y'know, so...'

'Of course. Take all the time you need.'

Yuigahama fiddled with her skirt a little. 'Um, how long have you been doing this Service Club thing?'

'Several months, now.'

'Everyday?'

'Unless I have schoolwork to complete, then yes.'

'Oh yeah, you're like, top in every subject. And you'd head home at 5pm, like all the other clubs, right?'

'Yes, although I fail to see how that's relevant. I would appreciate it if we could stay on subject.'

'O- oh, yeah, of course. About my request, then...'

Yukino frowned. She supposed being in the presence of someone as perfect as her could be a little unsettling, but she couldn't see how she'd been anything but hospitable. Yuigahama was either a nervous person in general or just lacking confidence socially.

The girl in question interlocked her fingers. 'I actually came about a boy that I like. I've been into him for awhile, but I always clam up whenever I'm talking to him, and I don't want to suffer in silence without ever telling him my feelings.'

She had anticipated it would be something along these lines. 'Have you considered baking him cookies, or something else in that vein?'

'That was what I wanted to do, but when I tried at home they, uh, kinda ended up burned.' She reddened. 'I'm not the best at baking, but... I thought maybe you could help me with it?'

'That would be permissible,' Yukino replied, standing up. 'I happen to be rather practised at making cookies.'

'Oh? H- have you got a boyfriend, or maybe just someone you like?'

'No. I find the boys in our year to be laughably immature.'

'Then why would you be practised-'

'Yuigahama-san? Perhaps we should head over to the home economics room for this request? Although the recipe for cookies is easy to remember, I feel it may help to take you through it step by step.'

She saw no reason why she should have to linger on a subject that made her uncomfortable, even if Yuigahama had brought it up innocently. Yukino used to make cookies every year, from the first of elementary until half way through middle school for the two individuals that, in her naivety, she had considered to be the closest to her. Once, she had seen them as pillars in her life, supporting her when the torment of those in her class became too great.

Their betrayal had stung bitterly, like pouring salt into an open wound. It was around that time that she had first dreamt of changing the world.

Would she still be moving forward with her schemes as Kira if those pillars had not come crumbling down? Perhaps not.

Yukino wasn't entirely sure what to make of this thought, so she pushed it from her mind.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, and the pair of them had set up in the home economics room. The aroma of freshly baking cookies filled the air, wafting out into the corridor through the door, which stood ajar. Yukino was beginning to get a good impression of the kind of person Yuigahama Yui was; primarily, she never stopped talking. During the short trip to get the key from the staff room, she was bombarded by longwinded stories about social relations which she honestly could not care less about. It wasn't as if this was ill-intentioned, or that Yui was incapable of talking about anyone except herself. The problem lay in the fact that, even though she spent a great amount of time elaborating on her friendship group, a clique essentially governed by Miura Yumiko, she didn't seem to be particularly invested in what she was saying. It always had an edge of half-heartedness. Of reluctance. As if she was far more concerned with Yukino's life, despite them having just met, than her own.

At several points, Yukino found herself having to steer the conversation back in Yuigahama's direction when she was sent another question that, despite not being impolite, was certainly bordering on intrusive. _For someone allegedly part of the popular clique, she really_ is _socially inept,_ she mused.

'Now,' Yukino said, stepping back from the oven. 'I trust you were paying attention?' They had both agreed it would be helpful for the Service Club president to bake an example batch, so Yui could get a feel of the basics.

'Yeah,' Yui said enthusiastically, nodding. 'You're like, amazing at this! Are you sure you didn't take lessons, or something?'

'Of course not. That would be a complete waste of time.' She gestured towards the recipe book, propped up to the side. 'Baking is very self-explanatory. All you need to do is follow the steps.'

'Are you sure?' Her voice was doubtful. 'Aren't you just, y'know, naturally talented? It looks pretty difficult...'

It most certainly wasn't difficult. Yukino had to conceal the scorn she felt at Yuigahama's comment. Baking cookies was just about one of the most simplistic cooking tasks in existence, and Yui's words, though they could be interpreted as merely defeatist and an indication of her lack of confidence, suggested to _her_ a lack of determination to succeed. Yukino had, over her years of education, derived several beliefs about humans that she still thought perfectly valid when nearing the end of her second year at high school. As a naturally talented student, she found it impossibly grating when others took that talent as an excuse for them not to persevere. Just because she could do it with little effort did not mean that they could not if they put their mind to it.

She was tempted to scold Yuigahama. Yukinoshita Yukino might have done so. But, Kira had just a little more tact than that.

'Perhaps it would look difficult to someone who had never attempted to bake before,' she said. Her voice was smooth as silk, betraying none of her impatience. 'But, those who don't have the drive to improve themselves have no right to envy the gifted. So...' She turned off the oven and reached inside it with a pair of oven gloves, removing a batch of almost freakishly perfect cookies. 'I suggest you get practicing if you want to impress this crush of your's.'

Yuigahama's eyes widened at the sight of them. 'That's... I guess that's true.' She carefully picked up one of the cookies and took a bite, gasping a little. 'So good!'

'Indeed.'

'Aren't you going to have one?'

'No,' Yukino answered, shaking her head cooly. 'I'm not very partial to sugar.'

'Then can I have a few mo-'

'Go ahead.'

As the pink-haired girl wolfed a couple more of the cookies down, Yukino reached over to the half finished bento box that she had made for herself. Though such matters as class and status had never been of much interest to her, she had always known it was important to maintain the image of a perfect student, and thus was very careful about how much she ate.

She took the apple that she had chosen that morning and bit into it slowly, savouring the flavour. It tasted oddly sour.

After a moment, Yuigahama set about making her own batch. Yukino watched, ever so slightly horrified, as a legion of unforgivably obvious mistakes unfolded in front of her. She set about correcting them as gently as she could, but once again, she noted that the Service Club's client seemed distracted.

'Your prospective boyfriend can't be all that precious to you if these preparations are any indication,' Yukino said, pinching the bridge of her nose as Yuigahama poured even more milk into the globulous mixture. 'Would you please at least _try_ to listen to my advice?'

She shrunk a little. 'S- sorry... it's just... maybe I'm not cut out for thi-'

'Either you try and find out whether this boy likes you or, as you put it yourself, suffer in silence. Which is it going to be, Yuigahama-san?'

There was a moment of silence. Yukino cursed herself under her breath. She was being too forceful. The girl she was dealing with was, to all intents and purposes, incompetent. But, the only chance she would have of improving was the aid of a soft word or two.

'Stop what you're doing a moment, please.'

She did so. Her deep brown eyes were full of uncertainty.

'Perhaps you could elaborate on your reasons for liking this boy?' She wouldn't force Yuigahama to tell her a name if she didn't want to.

'Why I like him?' The fingers of her right hand neared the blazer of her left. 'Do... do you have to ask such an embarrassing question?'

'Yes, if it means we see a marked improvement.'

'... Alright.' She paused, considering her argument. 'He's- he's kind, I guess. And good-looking... well, not good looking exactly. He's... um...' She trailed off.

'Is that it?' Surely high school crushes weren't as perfunctory as this, considering the excitement with which they were spoken of?

'No. Sorry Yukinon... just give me a moment...' She inhaled slowly, gathering herself. 'You see, on the first day of high school, he was in this ac- accident. And it was my fault. I was walking my dog before getting ready, and I let go of the leash, just as I was nearing the road. Sable- my dog, I mean- ran straight out in front of this big white limousine. And the boy, just as I thought Sable was going to be run over... he cycled his bike right in front of it and saved my stupid dog, just like that. Without even thinking about it.' She shuffled her feet. 'Ever since that day, I've... I've wanted to thank him. And I liked him, I guess. I know it's weird, considering we've barely spoken but...'

Yukino's lips had thinned when the girl finished speaking. Suddenly, the memories flooded back. Suddenly, she could recall the face of Yuigahama Yui, a face she hadn't recognised when she first walked through the door to the Service Club. The girl whose dog had run in front of her family's limousine had brunette hair, instead of the bright pink that she now saw before her.

It hadn't been her fault. Yukino was only a passenger in the limousine, and didn't even see the boy on the bike until the car had ground to a halt, and his face was sprawled on the tarmac. Her driver requested that she stay in the vehicle, so she had only watched as the brunette clutched her straying dog and cried, terrified, as the ambulance arrived and carried the boy off to the hospital. That hadn't discouraged the guilt that had swamped her throughout the next few weeks. Weeks where, out of some disgusting cowardice, Yukinoshita Yukino hadn't bothered to find out the identity of the boy and girl whose high school lives she had ensured would set off on the wrong foot.

She couldn't see much of a point in rubbing the now two year old scars, and so continued with her original intentions.

'It seems to me that this boy performed a great service to you, and is fully deserving of these cookies. I'm sure that I'd appreciate them more if the effort put into them was obvious...?'

Yuigahama didn't say anything, and instead turned back to the bowl.

She frowned, taken back by the tension ridden atmosphere that her words had created.

'Yukinon?'

'Yes, Yuigahama-san?'

'Could we be friends?'

Yukino's eye brow rose. _Where has this come from?_

'I see no reason why not,' she replied, not very enthused.

'Yay!'

Yuigahama didn't seem to share her unease, as suddenly Kira, the God of a brave new world, was enveloped in a spine shattering hug. She froze up, unused to and not exactly welcoming of the close contact. Yui didn't seem to notice, looking up at her with big, glimmering eyes and a smile so wide it appeared almost manufactured.

The conversation slowed to a trickle afterwards, partly because Yukino had been so stunned by this new found "friendship", and also because Yui's concentration levels had taken a much needed hit. Suddenly, the old cookie dough, if they truly had to disgrace the name of cookie dough by referring to it as that, had been thrown out and the second attempt was under way. It still wasn't close to being on par with Yukino's, but was definitely the marked improvement that she had been in dire need of.

'Yukinon... you know the person who was in that car never even apologised?'

She winced, but didn't show it. 'I can't imagine the kind of person who would do that.'

'Yeah. I think they might even be going to Sobu High, like us.'

'Well, people are inherently unpleasant. This is yet more evidence of that.'

'Unpleasant? I suppose so... you wouldn't say they were _evil_ , thou-'

'Not all of them. I believe humans, or at least the overwhelming majority of them, _want_ to be good. We take comfort in that, but really, it's a fickle comfort. The evil may be in a minority, but it still exists.'

'As in criminals? Like, murderers and rapists and stuff...'

'Yes. In my eyes, they would definitely constitute evil, but could you please concentrate on the dough, Yuigahama-san? It needs more flour.'

She added the lacking ingredient, glancing at Yukino as she did so. 'So you think that Kira is evil too, then?'

'Kira ia a murderer.'

'... So yes?'

She sighed. 'Must we talk of such matters? We're here to bake cookies, not pass judgement on dangerous serial killers.'

This was merely a front, of course. In truth, Yukinohita Yukino found it hugely enjoyable when people insisted on discussing Kira. Gratifying, even. It was another sign that her work was making an impact. She wondered what Yuigahama Yui's reaction would be if she knew that the killer she spoke of was actually standing right beside her.

'I just think it's an interesting topic. No one in class ever wants to talk about it, but...' She blinked shyly. 'You don't seem like the kind of person to dance around a point, Yukinon.'

She pondered it for a moment, then shrugged. 'If you really wish to discuss Kira, then feel free. Just don't lose focus on the task at hand.'

Yuigahama picked up the whisk and began to churn the dough. 'I just... I know it's probably, like, frowned upon to say this in public, but sometimes, I can't help but think Kira is doing some good. Yesterday, it said on the news that the crime rates across Japan were definitely falling; but on the other hand, isn't that just because people are scared? Ridding the world of evil is a good thing, but to do it with fear and violence...'

Yukino couldn't help but feel surprised. She hadn't expected Yui to speak of Kira with such transparency, or to raise such mature and noteworthy points. She disagreed with many of them, but they were mature nonetheless. It hardly mattered the means by which Yukino rid the world of evil, as long as she achieved that objective. Her words contradicted the impression of an airhead that she had built up of Yui so far.

If someone was on the border about Kira, and only needed the slightest of pushes to be fully persuaded of her good intentions, then it seemed to Yukino logical that she should provide that push.

She opened her mouth.

Then stopped.

 _Wait a minute..._

She replayed the Service Club request from the start. Yuigahama had entered and, after some strained small talk, they had made their way to the home economics room. The chatter between them had halted and resumed throughout, but it hadn't been discordant. To an untrained eye, they would seem like two high school students going about their business. But Kira was no high school student. She was used to mind games. To verbal spars. To manipulation. The only difference here was that, usually, it was _she_ who was doing the manipulation.

Two days ago, Yukino had also been manipulated. Played like a marionette on strings by a puppet-master calling themselves H. She had prepared for their next encounter, if it ever came, but... was there a chance that she had still been caught out? Why should her first ever Service Club request only come after the appearance of that poster on the front doors of the school? It was very quickly becoming apparent to Yukino that, from now on, she couldn't put _anything_ down to coincidence. All the time while they had been talking, Yuigahama had confronted her with questions. Questions about what she did after school. Questions about how she spent her Service Club sessions. Questions about her thoughts on good and evil. Questions about Kira that encouraged her to put forth her own opinion.

Questions that, in hindsight, might have been interrogative.

Yukino wanted to clench her fists together. Could this all be a sham? A ploy to tempt her into accidentally proving that she was Kira, orchestrated by the orchestrator in chief-

 _H... how dare you. Who the hell do you think that you are?! Do you really think that you can challenge me? I am Kira! I_ am _the orchestrator! You, H, are nothing but a pawn upon my board._

She highly doubted that Yuigahama herself was H. H had proven themselves to be, at the very least, intelligent. If there was even a chance that Yukino would discover them, they wouldn't risk it. Was Yuigahama _their_ pawn? Or were they just foolish?

Or... maybe she was just being temperamental. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions...

Either way, she couldn't second guess herself. She had to trust her instincts. Kira would find out whether her hunch was founded upon truth, or whether she was over-reacting, first. If it was the former, then Yuigahama Yui wouldn't see the light of day again.

'I... believe that you may be onto something there, Yuigahama-san.'

She looked up, surprised. 'Really?'

'Yes.' Yukino fixed her with a stare, trying to judge from her reactions. 'I agree that there's something of a stigma surrounding Kira in public, and that people feel like they can't express their true opinions. Antiquated human perceptions of morality prevent them from being honest... but, I have to say, if _I_ were Kira...'

She hesitated for a moment, as if she was considering whether to continue. In truth, she was watching. Waiting. H had provoked her into a reaction by use of the poster, and in doing so, she had given him (or them?) reason enough to suspect her. She would play him at his own game, and she would win. The outcome was just a formality. Yukino was confident that Kira would prevail. She was smarter. She was _better.  
_

But Yuigahama, if she was conspiring with or actually was H, was also a good actor. She blinked, but nothing else. No spark of excitement at the possibility of Kira giving themselves away. No grounds for suspicion thus far.

'If I were Kira, then I could well have made the same choice. If I had the power... if had that incredible, if terrifying, ability to kill with just a thought. If I could take a criminal and rid the world of their evil with a click of a finger- well... to create a world inhabited only by the pure of heart isn't exactly a bad ideal. If it were truly possible to realise an ideal of that colossal magnitude and significance, then would you blame me if I took action?'

She chose her words with a careful intent. It had to seem hypothetical, as if she was just speculating on the moral "dilemmas" raised by the Kira case, while also giving Yuigahama just enough to tease her presumptions. Enough for her to come to the conclusion that H desperately wanted her to come to. That Yukinoshita Yukino, the Ice Queen, was also Kira.

But instead of giving herself away, and effectively signing her death warrant, Yuigahama Yui sighed.

'I see what you mean. Like, I don't think anybody could say that ridding the world of murder and stuff is bad, but like you said... it's just an ideal, y'know? It might be like that political thingy. I can't remember the actual name, but it means that everybody's equal...'

'Communism?'

'Yeah, commu... communi... well, that, however you say it. It's a pretty cool idea, that everybody could be equal, and the whole country would be united and they'd all get the same treatment, but is it really realistic? There's been, like, several communist countries and all of them have ended up failing because of corruption and all that. Kira is pursuing a world without evil, and there's nothing wrong with that in theory, but if you think about it, it's just that. A theory. I... I'm not sure he or her will ever be able to actually to create a world like that.'

Yukino continued to search. Her ice cold eyes flickered over Yuigahama Yui's own, over her cheeks, over the tiny, girlish hint of a pout on her eyes, but there was nothing. She couldn't find it. No evidence that bringing up Kira, or her previous questions on Yukino's personal life, had been instigated by anything other than youthful curiosity. All of a sudden, the seeds of doubt in the Service Club president's mind had opened, and the resultant shoots were growing fast. Was it really fair to suspect that Yuigahama Yui, an obvious airhead of all people, was H? How could someone so evidently lacking intuition and general knowledge, someone who couldn't even pronounce the word "communism" correctly, be a secret mastermind? The girl she saw had to be genuine. She didn't want to admit it, but it seemed more likely this was some kind of paranoid delusion...

Kira just couldn't accept it. She was the God of a brave new world. It wasn't possible for her to be fooled by a human.

She shrugged. 'In the end, discussing Kira's intentions won't affect anything. For all we know, the murder of criminals could just be a front he uses to justify his own bloodlust. And... well, maybe there's a reason your classmates refuse to speak of it. I can't say it's doing wonders for my appetite.'

But, as the pair of them returned to the sorely neglected cookie dough, Yukino still couldn't quite shake the feeling of discomfort in her belly. It frustrated her; taking care of H would, at some point or other, require a decisive action, but so far she had only caught glimpses of an opportunity by which she could exact it. Apart from her own suspicions, which judging from Yuigahama's reaction she couldn't rely on, guessing as to H's identity was like stabbing in the dark. Despite the Death Note, and all the power that it had granted her, H could well have the upper hand over her. If they really knew that she was Kira, at least.

Down by her side, so that Yuigahama Yui couldn't see her, Yukino's finger nails began to dig into her palm. _Damn you, H._

* * *

Hachiman had never made a secret of the fact that, generally, he disliked people. He disliked almost everyone he met for one reason or another, and often for more reasons than he could count on one hand. However, he is humble, or perhaps self deprecating enough, to concede that this misanthropic streak is more of an instinctive reaction than something calculated, or objective. Those reasons could be applied to any human on Earth, including himself, at some point in their lives. One only needs the right situation, the right combination of danger and threat, to expose the worst in people. He supposed that, although his reasoning for being averse to human interaction were perfectly reasonable, they also served as a defence mechanism. Middle school had drilled into his head that, in simple terms, human interaction equated to humiliation and embarrassment. Thus, it was only natural he should strive to avoid it.

But there are only a very small minority of people he would say he specifically hated. People that actively went out of their way to tease him, or maintained a social facade that was so obviously fake, or used their contrived "popularity" to exploit the people around them. Hachiman didn't believe that a human's personality was set or fixed; it was influenced by their family and their childhoods and their adolescents and so forth. So, even those people that he hated might have turned out a whole lot different if but one of those factors had been altered. Perhaps, in another world, he could have ended up as a riajuu.

Perhaps, in another world, he could have ended up as Kira.

The thought had been pestering him for the past few days. After him and Yuigahama's plan had proved successful in identifying Yukino as Kira (though their evidence wasn't exactly substantial, he was absolutely certain of their conclusion), he had felt the need to try and collect as much information about her as possible. He already knew the basics- that she came from a rich family and was top in her year- but the slightest of pokes beneath the surface revealed things that surprised him. Several local newspaper articles and online blogs hadn't been kind in their portrayal of her family's moral integrity. Quickly, he found himself building up the image of a girl who, despite her beauty and intelligence, was constantly isolated. He had no way of knowing for sure, but it seemed reasonable to him that her cold attitude might have been, before she found the Death Note at least, also a defence mechanism; just like his self proclaimed loner status. If anything, it seemed that her "good points" only contributed to this isolation.

The idea of comparing himself to _Kira_ disgusted to him, but he couldn't deny that there were similarities between them. They were both, for lack of softer words, friendless. They were both perceived by their peers to be inscrutable and unapproachable. This was not to say that he sympathised with her, though. On the contrary. He still thought that Yukinoshita Yukino was evil, and that it was obligatory for him and Yuigahama, H, to hunt her down.

But... that question. How would things have turned out if he had picked up the Death Note in place of her? It was a question that unsettled him; an aimless one that only helped to distract him from more pressing matters. But he couldn't help but ask it anyway. Hachiman desperately wanted to think that he wouldn't have done the same, but truly... could he really ignore the possibility that-

At that moment, he was sitting on a bench in a park just a couple of streets away from his house. It was a tiny dot of green on the canvas of Chiba, the majority of which was painted an overwhelming grey. He used to come here quite a lot in his younger years with Komachi, and so the sight of a mother and her daughter laughing while playing on the climbing frame only about twenty metres away from him felt both distinctly familiar and impossibly faraway. He watched as the daughter nearly fell from the monkey bars only to be caught by her diligent parent, before carrying on as if nothing had happened. The sight of blissful childish naivety summoned a rare smile to his face.

His fingers drummed on the wooden side of the bench. Ever since he and Yuigahama had agreed to assume the figure of H, Hachiman had been constantly reminded of the danger he was in by the fear, crawling in his bones. When it came down to it, H was just a couple of teenagers, in well over their heads, entrusted with a responsibility that should have been reserved for someone far beyond their years. The same could be said with Kira. It was almost funny, if he thought about it. Three teenagers in Japan would, sooner or later, have to fight each other in a battle of wits. The winner or loser of this battle would determine the fate of the entire world as they knew it. A whole planet's lives were depending on him, for he could be sure that criminals wouldn't be the only ones that suffered from Yukinoshita Yukino's _glorious_ new world. A billion mothers and daughters, just like the ones twenty metres away. Relying on him and Yuigahama alone.

He rubbed his eyes with his hands. Hachiman didn't want a reality check. He needed to stay focused on their second plan which, hopefully, would help them onto the road to proving Yukino's guilt. The plan which they were executing at that very moment.

After their scheme with the poster, which could only really be put down as a resounding success, Hachiman had struggled to think of the right way for them to proceed. Yes, they knew who Kira was now, and still had the advantage of her not knowing who they were, but the odds were still in her favour. There was absolutely no way of acquiring evidence as to Kira's actions; the only way such a feat would be possible was by forcing a confession from Yukino (he doubted this would be coming any time soon), or by catching her in the act. From this reasoning, Hachiman had theorised that the best way to proceed would be to provoke Yukino even further. This time, they needed to provoke Yukino into actually using the Death Note, thus proving its existence and the method of her murders. But, following that road was too risky. They couldn't send her another message anonymously- too predictable. They couldn't show their faces to her- suicidal. Things were balanced on a knife edge.

He was at first inclined to refuse Yuigahama's suggestion. She told him that she agreed the only way they would be able to prove Yukino was Kira was via the Death Note, but that didn't necessarily mean they had to capture _her_ using it. Instead, all they needed was the Death Note itself. In other words, her proposal was to steal it. He rejected this, deeming it impossible, but then she continued. _It stands to reason that the Death Note is probably in Yukino's apartment, right?_ she'd said. _Well... the only way we'd be able to get our hands on it is by getting inside her apartment. What if I… If I tried to, like, make friends with her? Then I might be able to get into her place without it seeming weird._

Hachiman had desperately wanted to dismiss her idea. It was surely a step too far. If Yui put even the slightest foot wrong, she would be dead in seconds. They still couldn't fathom the true capabilities of the Death Note, so they also couldn't legislate for any added abilities or safety assurances it might give Kira. But, after awhile, he had gradually started to listen to reason. Their life was in danger either way, so what difference did it make how exactly they raised the stakes? They had to do something, and this was the only plan they had even close to being feasible. Yui was the only one who would be able to try and make friends with her without it seeming out of the blue. She was popular. She was much better than him socially. She could approach the Ice Queen in one of her Service Club sessions, and force her way into her good books. They could question her with subtlety, just to confirm to themselves they were right that Yukino was guilty. Then, when Yui was close enough... they would make their move.

Hachiman had gone to the park awaiting Yui's phone call that, hopefully, would inform their next move in this intricate chess match had gone smoothly. They had decided they couldn't meet in person in anymore, and kept any contact between them strictly reserved to mobile. They even changed the name of each other in their contact lists so that, should Yukino get her hands on one of their phones, she wouldn't find anything incriminating.

At long last, the phone rang. Hachiman answered it immediately, making sure to keep his voice as a whisper.

 _'Hi -Hikki?'_

 _'It's me, Yuigahama-san. I... everything went well, right?'_

 _'I think so.'_

He flinched. _'You_ think _so? It either went well or it didn't. Which is it?'_

 _'Well... I'm not dead yet, am I?'_

He couldn't answer that. His heart was beating at a hundred miles an hour.

 _'T- then tell me what happened. Don't leave anything out. Even the slightest detail could've given us away.'_

 _'It all started off fine. I could tell she bought the story and the act. You were right about her, Hikki... I thought that she was arrogant. She was good at hiding at it, but she was looking down on me from the minute I came in.'_

 _'So you're convinced? That she's Kira, I mean?'_

 _'I... no. Not yet. But if she isn't, then what else are we supposed to do?'_

 _'Alright. What happened next?'_

 _'We went to the home economics room, and started baking the cookies. Again, everything was going fine. But then...'_ She exhaled heavily. Only now did Hachiman realise that she was virtually panting, laboured and clearly stressed. _'I... did something stupid.'_

He tried to control the panic in his heart. _'... What was it?'_

 _'I brought up Kira, Hikki. I regretted it, but I couldn't take it back. I- I guess I thought it might help us to find out her motives or something, but then... I think she realised there was something off. For just a moment, I thought she was questioning me back...'_

 _'You don't think she figured it out, right?'_

 _'I dunno. I mean... I don't see how she could've done. I think I threw her off the scent, cause things went back to normal pretty quickly, but for a moment I was totally panicking. I... didn't show it, but I thought I was gonna be sick. I thought I was going to die, just like the others.'_

He wished that he was there with her, so he could lay an arm around her shoulder, console her, do _something._ In all of this, Hachiman felt a crawling sense of powerlessness. Powerlessness in the face of Kira, in the face of the uphill battle facing them, and in his inability to properly fulfil his promise to Yuigahama: to protect her. He had said he would keep her safe, but he had already failed in doing so by shoving her right into the firing line. Right into Kira's aim. Now, all she needed to do was pull the trigger, and she hadn't shown herself to be reluctant in doing that so far.

 _'Yuigahama... if there's even the slightest chance that she might've suspected you, even for a moment, we can't progress with this plan-'_

 _'But it's the only plan we have-'_

 _'I don't care. I know it has to be our priority to bring her to justice, but I refuse to sacrifice... I refuse to make sacrifices in doing so.'_

He had held back from saying that he refused to sacrifice her. It seemed inappropriate. But, Yui seemed to pick up on the sentiment regardless.

She sighed, though from what emotion he couldn't tell. _'Hikki...'_

Hachiman ignored the lump forming in his throat. _'I'm sorry. I insist that we're patient with this. We should only make our move when it's absolutely certain that we're going to beat her. Or at the very least, when there's a high chance of it.'_

 _'...'_

 _'Yuigahama?'_

 _'Alright, Hikki. I understand.'_

Relief flooded through him. _'Okay. Is- is there anything more that you think might be important?'_

She hesitated. _'Not really. After that, we mostly just concentrated on the cookies, but... after we'd finished, and we were about to lock up the Service Club room, she had a phone call. She seemed annoyed when she answered it, and then excused herself pretty hurriedly. Said she had to go.'_

He blinked. Going to meet someone, perhaps? He voiced this thought to Yui, and she affirmed it.

 _'Did you see who the caller was?'_

 _'No. She kept it hidden from me.'_

Intriguing. A family member perhaps? An associate? He'd never considered the possibility that Kira might be working with another. She didn't seem like the type to rely on anyone except herself, but on the other hand, neither did he.

 _'Did you see which way she went after she left the school?'_

 _'Y- yeah. She went left, and walked, instead of being picked up like she usually is.'_

 _'So she changed her plans. It must've been urgent for her to break routine like that... and to the left... the cafe where students often go to hang out after school is in that direction, yes?'_

 _'Uh huh, but- wait, you're not thinking of following her, are you?'_

 _'Every avenue's worth pursuing at this stage, Yuigahama. Seeing who she meets, if she does meet anyone, might give us some more information to exploit.'_

His reasoning was lost on her. _'But what if she sees you-'_

 _'Even if she did, I wouldn't be in danger. She's never met me; I doubt she'll even know who I am. If I stay out of sight, I should be fine.'_

 _'You don't know that. If it's a meeting, she could have something planned-'_

 _'As far as we know, she's working alone. I doubt there'd be many others who'd be convinced to commit murder on this sort of scale. And, this seems to be a spur of the moment arrangement. She'll be careful, of course, but so will I.'_

 _'But... what... what if I don't want to sacrifice_ you _either, Hikki?'_

He gritted his teeth. Things were becoming too complicated between them. He didn't want to care about her, and he wished that she wouldn't care about him. They were working together as H, and they needed to be impartial and logical if they wanted to defeat Kira, not emotional and irrational. They still barely knew each other, but already, they were connected, linked by the same burden of a thousand tonnes.

 _'I understand, Yuigahama. Really, I do. But this is different to trying to get into her apartment while she already suspects you. I'll just be another customer in the cafe. As long as I'm quite, and I use Stealth Hikki-'_

 _'Stealth Hikk-'_

 _'Nevermind. Look, the point is, I'll be careful. And please, could you trust me on this? If we don't move quickly, I'll miss her.'_

There was a long pause.

 _'Hikki, I... I trust you.'_

 _'Good.'_ His fingers rose up the phone. _'I'm going to hang up now. I'll call you later to tell you how things went.'_

 _'...'_

He ended the call. The silence spoke volumes: she wasn't happy. She didn't want him to go after Yukino, just like he didn't want her to continue the initial plan of getting close to her. But he couldn't worry about that right now. He needed to concentrate.

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. _For the next few hours or so, don't be Hachiman. Be H. Be sharp, don't make stupid errors, and you'll... we'll find something._

H stood up, his newfound resolve flooding through him, and made his way towards the gate of the park. The mother and child glanced up ever so briefly to watch him go, but then returned to their games on the slide. Innocent, unknowing, as they should be. The people, like Yuigahama, whom H had sworn to protect.

* * *

It didn't take long to reach the cafe. It wasn't a place he had ever made a habit of visiting, mostly because there had never been a reason for him to. This place was bustling, always full of people, always full of laughter and joy and humour. All in all, it was a corner reserved for the riajuu of Chiba, a group of which Hachiman had always and, presumably, always would be perpetually excluded from. The exterior of the cafe was simplistic, but it was exactly that simplistic aesthetic which granted it the charm that had no doubt kept the students of Sobu High coming back. Even now, two hours after closing time, it was still packed to the rafters with adolescents donning the same, identical school uniforms. The scent of freshly brewed coffee floated out through the open door, enticing a fair few out in the street.

H slipped inside with his face blank, looking for all the world like just another student which, to all intents and purposes, he was. Apart from his dead fish eyes and rather hasty variant on the Sobu High dress code, he actually fit in quite well with his peers, what with his overwhelmingly mediocre looks. Overall, nothing about him would magnetise attention in quite the same way that Yukinoshita Yukino did.

Instead of ordering something from the barista at the counter, he headed straight over to one of the vending machines beside it, inserting the yen for his trusted beverage: MAXX Coffee. The sugar hit would help him to remain alert. After cracking it open, he turned and scanned the rest of the cafe with all the nonchalance he could muster, searching for the doll-like face of a mass murderer amongst the throng.

There. Over by the window, glancing up at the sky. Yukinoshita Yukino, in all her enigmatic, entrancing glory. With the late afternoon sunlight streaming in behind her, he couldn't deny her that she was beautiful. The forbidden fruit in the proverbial Eden. She was sat alone, but in a booth that suggested for all the world that she was waiting for someone. He was lucky. She was sat in a less densely packed corner of the cafe, meaning he could well be able to eavesdrop in on her conversation.

He made his way over to her and took the thankfully unoccupied booth directly behind her, so that she couldn't see him. She gave no indication that she even noticed his presence, but even so, he took a winding, roundabout route through the tables on his way over to her.

Now, all that remained was to wait.

H coudn't deny that his pulse was quickening. This was the first time he'd ever observed her up close. She was a little shorter than he had expected for some reason, but her presence in itself had an imposing aura. Perhaps this was just his mind playing tricks on him. Only he was aware that Yukino was, in fact, Kira; someone who only last week had been placed top of the FBI's Most Wanted list. Anyone else would pass her off as any other high school student, albeit attractive, enjoying herself after a long, tiresome school day.

He was relieved from the tension when another girl entered the cafe. As she approached, numerous heads turned, and when she came into view for him it became apparent why. She, like Yukino, was beautiful. What's more, their features were so similar he would wager that they were related, and that this was the person she had been called to meet. The woman, older than her sister (he assumed this to be the relation), was wearing denim jeans and a tight tank top that only reached half way down, exposing her stomach to a fair amount of eager eyes in the cafe. He only caught the shortest of glances at her face, but a broad smile was sketched across it. Nonetheless, he noted the thinness of her lips and the barely noticeable pout. It was a false smile.

H took another sip of MAXX Coffee. He couldn't help but doubt the meeting was to be a typical, warm hearted encounter between siblings. There didn't seem to be anything about Kira that was typical. Perhaps that would play to his advantage?

He averted his gaze as she walked past him, though the same certainly couldn't be said of the group of boys in the booth opposite, who openly ogled her backside. After she took a seat, it took a good couple of minutes before the cafe settled back into whatever conversations they had been enjoying. H, however, listened attentively as their conversation unfolded.

'Little imouto! I haven't seen much of you the past two weeks.'

'My apologies, Nee-san.'

'... Is that it? No heartfelt apology? Nothing?'

'I fail to see how this is anything out of the ordinary. I often went for months without hearing from you while you attended universit-'

'Yes, but you were always a little more... needy, weren't you Yukino?'

There was a pause. If H glanced over his shoulder, he felt sure there would have been a scowl on her face.

'Well, I do believe the saying "Everyone grows up someday" can be applied-'

'Oh, of course. I just didn't expect you to grow up faster in two weeks than you had in seventeen years. Anyone would think it strange.'

'And what... you called me here, wasting my _valuable_ time out of concern for my wellbeing? Now that definitely would be a drastic change.'

'I think you'll find that I worry about you constantly, Yukino.'

'Worry isn't the word I'd use-'

'No. I suppose you're right. I'm more... surprised. You see, that little stunt you pulled, slamming the car door in my face on your way to school-'

An audible sigh of annoyance. 'I was late for school, Haruno. Is this really what you call an urgent matter?'

'No, but mother does. When I told her, she said she thought it was very rude.'

A pause. H's fingers tightened around the MAXX Coffee, which was already half finished. Their tones of voice were odd. They were just upbeat enough to be passed off by anyone who might have overheard them as lighthearted teasing, but H knew better. These interchanges were sharp, fast, controlled and biting. He wondered more about the relationship that Yukino has, or rather had, with her family. He had picked up quickly that, since her acquisition of the Death Note, the power dynamics is this starkly dysfunctional sisterly relationship had shifted a little. It seemed that, previously, Haruno had been dominant, and Yukino had always submitted to her whims, even relying on her, perhaps. But, above that, there was another level of authority. One that was absolute and final, occupied by the matriarch of the Yukinoshitas. _One would have to be truly fierce-some to keep these two bundles of joy in line,_ H mused. Frightening, even. Haruno brought her up with the connotation of menace, and of threat. If Yukinoshita Yukino truly was frightened of her mother, him and Yui would have another chess piece on their side of the board.

'Is that supposed to be a threat? Like you mentioned yourself, I'm not a child anymore.'

Yukinoshita Yukino, maybe. But Kira? Clearly not.

'Oh, that really just doesn't sit right with me, Yukino! You'll always be my adorable little useless imouto at heart.'

'Will I now?'

'Of course. Do you remember the Valentines Days we used to have while you were still in middle and elementary school! It was so cute, how you used to wake us up nice and early in the morning to give us chocolates...' She giggled.

H's ears pricked. _Us...?_

'Must you always bring up such humiliating memorie-'

'Humiliating? Why would they be humiliating? I think of them warmly, Yukino. You always used to get so competitive as well. Always trying to beat me. Always trying to outshine me.'

Yukino didn't say anything to this. H wished he could see her expression. Was she angry? Calm? Agitated?

'When exactly was the last time you made those chocolates, hm? Long enough to be able to forget, I suppose. But old habits die hard, right?'

'What are you implying?'

'Just speculating, little imouto, on all this secrecy of late. Maybe it's only me that's been excluded from the pleasure of your culinary abilities...?'

Yukino laughed. This time, she didn't even attempt to hide the derisory scorn in her voice. 'You think the past two weeks are the result of some ridiculous high school romance? That's pathetic even by your standards, Haruno.'

'It's as good a guess as any, Yukino. How am I to know about your love life? That old crush of yours might still be going strong. Maybe you finally summoned the courage to tell him this time.'

'I'll have you know my "feelings" for Hayama-kun were greatly exaggerated-'

'You've always been a dreadful liar, Yukino. You used to blush when he so much as looked as you. Why, once I remember there was a time when you asked him to hold your hand! I swear, I almost swooned-'

'Enough of this-'

'Honestly, I think it's a good thing! You need other people in your life, just in case you get too lonely and I'm not there to give you a hug. Pan-san plushies aren't always enough, after all. I'm sure he provides an adequate replacement-'

'I _hate_ Hayama Hayato. You know that perfectly well, dear sister,' Yukino all but spat.

Haruno didn't say anything for a moment.

'What's happened to you?'

'... And now you're just spouting nonsen-'

'What _happened_ to you, Yukino? My imouto would never say something like that.'

'...'

'Who are you?'

'... I have no idea what you're talking about, Haruno.'

Haruno's gasped. H couldn't see it from his position on the table opposite, but for just a moment, Yukino's eyes had flashed the colour of crimson.

The younger sibling stood up. H had to force himself not to look in her direction. 'If that is it, you'll forgive me if I excuse myself. Next time you ask me to meet you, please ensure it's for a greater purpose than just meaningless prattle.'

With that, she left, all but stomping out of the cafe and back in the direction of the school. Haruno remained for about twenty minutes afterwards, neglecting to order anything, until she was eventually approached and asked to leave by one of the staff. At first, it looked as if she might refuse, but then she got to her feet, slinging the expensive designer handbag over her right shoulder. She too left with her face stony, her eyes unmoving. No one else in the cafe had the gaul to listen in on their conversation, but they could sense the anger from them both, radiating like rising steam from a hot spring.

All the while, H's breath was hitched in his throat. Hayama Hayato? The soccer club captain, Prince of Soubu High himself? Him and Yukino had a history together that, apparently, extended all the way back to their childhood and, what's more, was riddled with emotional complications. Haruno all but declared that Yukino had, at one point, had romantic feelings for him, as appeared to be the expectation amongst all the girls in the school. But something had pulled them apart. Enough for H to be unaware they shared any form of connection, and evidently, for Kira to despise her with a shrieking malice that she had tried and failed to curb. For the first time, H had seen a chink in the armour. A break in her icy resistance. And he'd got to see it firsthand.

In other words, him and Yuigahama had struck gold.

* * *

Yukinoshita Yukino's eyelids were feeling a little heavy on Friday morning. She was approaching her locker after once more arriving at Sobu High, and feeling as bored with the early stages of her school day as ever. Last night, homework had proven to be slightly more of a challenge that she had expected (nothing too troubling, but demanding enough to merit the sacrifice of a couple of hours), so her usage of the Death Note had crept on later into the night than previously. She tried to get at least eight hours of sleep every night, and any less (or more) than that amount left her feeling far too tired to operate properly or, ironically, over rested and reluctant to do anything but remain in bed. Such inclinations were silly, of course, and she was good at avoiding them. Yukino had a feeling her work as Kira would call for far greater sacrifice than physical exhaustion at some point or other.

She inserted the key into the locker and was just about to open it when she heard the sound of raised voices down the corridor.

'-I can't believe you'd even think of saying something like that!'

'Okay, name one thing that's wrong about what Kira is doing. The people he's killing have all killed themselves! They deserve it-'

'That's totally irrelevant. Kira's a murderer, plain and simple. By saying that, you're just condoning it-'

'Well, maybe we should condone it, if that's the price of a law abiding society.'

There was already a crowd developing around the two girls arguing over her, pulled in by the same lurid curiosity of all who tuned into the news stations, and glanced at the YouTube videos and the online articles. None of them intervened, choosing simply to watch, expressions grim, as the argument panned out. Gullible lemmings, each and every one of them. For Yukino, the sight of such quarrels were becoming even more common, even more public and perhaps most importantly, even more heated. Just yesterday, while in the family limousine on her way to the apartment, she had seen a street fight taking place on the pavement. Though the prevention of such violence was her goal, she couldn't help allow a smile when she saw the reason for its instigation. One of the participants was a street graffiti artist, and his message, displayed in bold, multi-coloured spray paint? _Kira is justice._

On some of the websites of her followers, she had been startled but definitely not discouraged by another phenomenon of late. They had been posting lists, leaving her suggestions for those that she should judge next. People who had done them wrong, people who had aggrieved them; people the world would be better off without. Yukino was more than willing to satiate their bloodlust.

1,149 names written. That was her current death toll. Not bad for two weeks, and the rewards for her labours were already beginning to show. Though it wasn't just on a worldwide scale that Yukino appeared to be making headway. All of a sudden, she found herself with the pleasure, or rather the burden, of a "friend". Yuigahama Yui, after her Service Club request, had been following her during break periods, insisting on sharing lunch periods together, and sometimes coming to the clubroom after school as well. It would have disturbed her, and possibly acted as a prerequisite for her to get out her trusty fountain pen had she unearthed proof of her hunch that Yui was involved with H, but since that wasn't forthcoming she had grudgingly accepted the company. Yuigahama was rather dim and all too obsequious for her liking, but if she truly did wish only for companionship, there wasn't a problem per say... but she couldn't escape from her presentiment. History had proven that Yukino was rarely wrong.

She looked back to her locker, opening it.

Those presentiments were right.

This time, she refused to react. She wouldn't act out of the ordinary. She wouldn't give H yet more confirmation of his will to follow up on her, as the message in her locker was undoubtedly from him (the typed text was the same), and if she seemed intimidated, there wasn't a chance in hell that she would be able to throw him off the scent. It proved several things beyond doubt. One, that H existed. Two, that they knew about Kira. Three, that their aim was to catch Kira. Four, that Yukino was their prime suspect.

 **Yukinoshita Yukino. Please come to Class 2F before lessons start. Yours truly, HH.**

She read the words over several times, processing them, drawing them in, working out every angle. Yukino would not let her emotions get the better of her, as had been her downfall last week and, she noted, in all of her failures in life. She had to think and take the upper hand, and not let H take control, as he so clearly wished to. Then, _he_ would be the one making mistakes.

First of all, she focused on the command. She was supposed to come to Class 2F. What was the significance of Class 2F to H? The obvious answer was already given to her by the initials provided- _HH._ Hayama Hayato. This was the conclusion that most would make. He was by far the most popular boy in that class, and indeed the school.

But Yukino could smell the trap. This was clearly what H wanted her to think. She was _supposed_ to assume that Hayama Hayato was H, as it was only logical. Why? What was the reason for this? What advantage did her thinking that Hayama was the one on her tail give H? What disadvantage did that give her? And, also, why make the choice of Hayama specifically for the trap? Was it simply because he was influential in Sobu High and convenient for use, considering that he shared the letter of H's initial? No. She couldn't get behind that. But what other reason...

It had to be because they knew each other. It had to be. H was hoping that Yukino would fall for the same trap twice, and be overcome by emotions, as her history with Hayama Hayato had indeed been emotional. To say that was an understatement. But this theory raised more, highly troubling questions. If they were aware that Yukino had known Hayato throughout her childhood, then that meant they must be following her, or at least snooping around in her familial affairs. But only her family, and Hayato's of course, were aware of that connection. She never spoke to him while at school, so there was the possibility that one of her family members had told them, either intentionally or unintentionally.

A name sprung to her mind. Haruno. If anyone was to do that, it would be her. Besides, after their tense meeting on Wednesday evening at the cafe, she had begun to suspect that Haruno might be connected to H regardless. She was arrogant enough to disguise herself with a method as audacious as utilising her own initial- it was so stupid that Yukino wouldn't think twice about whether it was actually her. And, during the meeting itself, had Haruno not brought up Hayama Hayato herself? Was the excuse of her suspecting they were engaged romantically just a lie to further mislead her?

But then again, Kira couldn't see a way in which Haruno would have even the slightest of reasons to suspect that she was responsible for the murders. Furthermore, unless she was conspiring with other students at the school, how could she have orchestrated the poster if she was in the limousine with her at the same time?

In addition to all this, there was another fact that she couldn't overlook. Yuigahama Yui was also in Class 2F...

Once it became clear that, no matter how hard she searched, the answers would refuse to reveal themselves, she turned to the next matter at hand. The solution. How she should react. Primarily, it would be absolutely preposterous to go to the classroom as they had specified, because they no doubt had some form of scheme to catch her out. Why else should they request that she come? She doubted it was for a social gathering. She tried to think over what it could be in particular, but drew a blank. They didn't have any evidence that she was Kira. They would have gone to the police already if they did. Therefore, the motivation for inviting her to Class 2F had to be to _get_ evidence, but how exactly were they to achieve that? She could just lie about it if they asked her up front. What confused her even more is why they were planning to exact their plan in a public place. How did that help them (if it didn't, they would've done it in secret)? Surely the presence of others in the room just gave assurance to Yukino that they couldn't do anything too drastic. Was this a double bluff? Was the cheese of their trap the very fact that there would be others in the room?

The best course of action was to ignore the message and not go. She would just be playing into their hands if she did.

Kira rolled her tongue across the roof of her mouth. _Fuck._ If she was brutally honest, she refused to do that. The very notion of giving in to H, to this rabid blasphemer, sickened her. She was a God, and thus, it was obligatory for her to be in control. Letting H push her around would only encourage him to do it more and more and more, until eventually, she was in the defendant box and enchained for the rest of her miserable days. She would be damned if that was to happen. No. She knew the only outcome of their little game was H's head on a platter- yesterday, she had decided that for all the trouble he was causing her, H was deserving of a rather more morbid fate than a heart-attack, and decapitation seemed appropriate as any. Avoiding the issue of H would be a repulsive act of cowardice, as it didn't actively put her in the lead on the scoreboard, or level them, at least. Yukino doubted that she would come out of the encounter unscathed if she went, but there was a chance, if she was quick-witted, that she could leave H with a few wounds of his own.

Running away wouldn't win her their boxing match. She would have to take punches of her own, of course, but you could guarantee that she would dominate her end of the ring. And, eventually, she'd prevail, and find out the names of the perpetrator, or perpetrators, behind H.

It was decided. She would go to Class 2F. H had gambled, and it was only gracious that Kira should in return.

She left the letter in her locker, ensuring twice over that her bag was securely sealed inside, and headed off down the corridor towards the Class 2F. Yukinoshita Yukino was armed with her wits, and the strip of the Death Note in her inner blazer pocket.

 _Come on then, H. Show me your best. If you're truly as intelligent as you think you are, defeating me shouldn't be an issue._

After arriving at the doorway, she took a glance through the glass window from an angle, searching the interior for any sign of abnormality in the regular school routine. There was none. All of the students were sat in their cliques and their groups, some chatting, some playing games on portable consoles or whatever it was that interested them. It was probably a facade, but what was the probability that the whole class was involved in H's plot? Miniscule. There wasn't a chance that all of them would buy the story that Yukino, a mere high school student, was Kira. She could see Hayato, with his various subjects, amongst them the notoriously bad tempered Miura Yumiko. Behind her, Yuigahama Yui, smiling and laughing away. Those two were her foremost worries. That is, unless another revealed themselves to be involved.

 _Well,_ she thought, _delaying fate will get me nowhere._

Moving quickly to hide the slightest twinge of anxiety in her gut, Kira pulled the sliding door aside and stepped into the classroom.

Instantly, she was met by the surprised eyes of everyone in the classroom. Whispers broke out among them. They, of course, all knew about her, and also knew that she definitely did not frequent Class 2F in the morning. This, too, could turn out to be a negative. Almost thirty people were to be a witness to what took place, if H _did_ indeed try something. Yukino would have to be incredibly careful.

She turned her attention to Hayama Hayato, whose expression was equally stunned. She ignored Miura and Yui beside them, for the moment.

Kira crossed her arms. 'Well, Hayama-kun, I'm here. What have I done to deserve such an abrupt and mysterious invitation?'

Deathly silence. Then, the whispers intensified.

'-what does she mea-'

'-that is Yukinoshita Yukino, righ-'

'-what the heck is this about?'

Hayato bllinked, before smoothing over his hair. 'I'm... I'm sorry Yuki-cha-'

'Yukinoshita-san, to you.'

He seemed troubled by this, but carried on. 'Well, I'm sorry Yukinoshita-san, but I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about.'

She scrutinised his face. His bewilderment _seemed_ true enough, but could she really trust the expression of someone who she knew painfully well was brilliant at putting on an act? The letter directly suggested that he was H, and though it was more likely a red herring at this stage, she certainly couldn't disregard the possibility this was just an attempt to confuse her-

Suddenly, someone stood up, from behind her.

'Excuse me, Yukinoshita-san.'

She spun around, and the rest of the class followed suit. There, removing a headphone from his ear, was a boy that she couldn't place the name of. Considering the fact she had purposefully memorised the names of all those in her year, this caught her off guard. Everything about this boy screamed of teenage angst. He had scruffy black hair with an offensive ahoge sticking out at the top, a blazer of the same colour and eyes the like of which she had never seen. She could only describe them as being similar to a dead fish. Tiny. Piercing. His face was formed in a way that couldn't necessarily be described as unattractive, but his eyes prevented anyone from labelling him as such. Here, however, they were not emotionless, and instead conveyed a sense of palpable regret.

'It's me that has to apologise, unfortunately. I should've known you'd assume it was Hayama-kun. We have the same initials...'

Yukinoshita Yukino eyes widened unintentionally. _What... the same initials? HH?_ Then... that meant it was just as likely that he could be H as well. Or did it? Was this the true red herring, or just another needlessly elaborate plan to catch her off guard...?

Without warning, the boy was walking towards her, looking for all the world like he was on a mission. She had to force herself not to step back.

'My name is Hikigaya Hachiman. I wouldn't be surprised if you don't know who I am, but I obviously know who you are, Yukinoshita-san. I- I asked you to come because, though it may be impertinent, I cannot hold it back any longer.'

He took a deep breath.

'I've liked you for the longest time, Yukinoshita-san. Will you go out with me?'

 _I wonder is this guy for real?_

 _I wonder is he who he claims to be?_

 _And if he isn't what's the deal?_

 _Why would he make a point of telling me?_

Yukino remained perfectly still. She hadn't the faintest idea what was going on, and from the looks of it, neither did the rest of the class. Collectively, all of their jaws had hit the floor. Hayato watched in utter disbelief. Was this part of H's plan? It had to be, but how all the individual pieces fit together, she couldn't even begin to fathom. Her mind was spinning so fast, trying to anticipate what was going to happen next and its meanings, that it hurt. She felt helpless, boxed in and alone, like a deer in the headlights.

Hikigaya Hachiman tilted his head to the side, looking all of a sudden desperately earnest. 'Did... did you hear me? I asked if you'd go out with-'

'How could you?!'

This time, everybody turned their heads to the right. It was Yuigahama Yui. Now, _she'd_ gotten to her feet. Outrage ripped across her features. She looked positively scandalised, and incredibly upset.

'I... I thought we were friends, Yukinon! I told you that I liked him, and you went and talked to him behind my back?'

Yukino's eyes flickered from Hachiman, to Yui, and back to Hayato. No one in the class dared say a word as the confrontation continued. They were all entranced, trapped like Sleeping Beauty in a soporific spell.

Hachiman turned to Yui. 'W- what do you mean? You... you like me?'

Yuigahama blushed bright pink under the gaze of her crush. 'Well... y- yeah,' she stammered, 'but that's not important. What's important is her! She... why did you do it Yukinon?'

'You don't understand, Yuigahama-san,' Hachiman answered, struggling to keep his voice calm. 'She never came to speak to me. I... I just...'

He twisted his head sharply to look at Yukino, helpless. 'I can't help it. I lo- I like Yukino, Yuigahama-san.'

Yuigahama blinked, as if she didn't understand, then followed his gaze to Yukino. 'What... Yukinon?'

Yukino's hands were clenching around the hem of her skirt in apparent distress. She wanted to run away from this. She couldn't deal with this. Too much was happening. T- this wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Hayato, noticing this, stood. 'Now c'mon guys, listen... I don't think we should discuss this here in front of everybody, right? This seems pretty private.'

Out of the blue, Yukinoshita Yukino was back in elementary school. Out of the blue, Yukinoshita Yukino was surrounded by the bullies that had always tormented her, and they were tossing her indoor shoes around the classroom while she chased them, trying to get them back. Everyone was laughing, loud, screeching like hyenas, and she could do nothing but run and try to hold back the tears, and she was looking at Hayato, wishing that he would help her because she liked him so much, and he had to help her because they were friends, but he didn't. He just stood there and did nothing, and then, she really did begin to cr-

...

 _Stop. Look around. Think._

She wasn't in elementary school. She wasn't being bullied. She was in high school. She was being tested. Her answer to this test could determine whether she lived or died. She wasn't even Yukinoshita Yukino. That girl had died and was already buried six feet under ground, never to be exhumed, the moment she picked up the Death Note. She couldn't be Yukinoshita Yukino anymore. She had to be _Kira._

Kira looked at them. At Yuigahama Yui. At Hikigaya Hachiman. At Hayama Hayato. Three people. Three possibilities, all wrapped up in an absurd scenario well-fitted to a romantic comedy film, or a manga that she had never seen the point of. If one looked closely at her eyes, for just a moment, they would see that they were more red than icy blue. She had to get to grips with what was happening. She had to accept it, move on and combat it so that she came out in a position of strength. Now, she had a sense of just how well thought H's plan was.

From just glancing at the room, it was plain to see that the rest of Class 2F had no idea what was going on, and thus couldn't be H or even aware of him. Their purpose was only to observe, and the reason for this was simple. H had to be either one or all of the three people before her. It could be two of them. It could be all three. The witnesses were their way of protecting themselves, and ensuring that Kira couldn't use the Death Note to write down their names when she left the classroom. Since she didn't know who was responsible of the three, but knew with certainty that H was amongst them, Kira could easily just kill all three of them. But three deaths by heart-attack in quick succession was far too suspicious, and would draw police attention to the area, as Yui, Hachiman and Hayato probably had no criminal records. Upon questioning, the class would bring up the fact all three of them had been involved in an incident with Yukinoshita Yukino, leading them straight to her.

She _could_ stagger their deaths, and kill by means that suggested accidents, but three deaths from the same school was still odd, and Kira easily predicted that they had taken other safety measures. H probably had confessions planned so that, if they did die, police would discover said confessions, be forced to take the dying words of a corpse seriously and investigate. If one or more of the three had identical confessions accusing her, she wouldn't have a prayer of avoiding discovery, because a conspirator could go to the police with their suspicions if Kira killed one of them and, considering the death of a teenager was involved, the police would again be forced to investigate. They were all logical steps to take.

In other words, killing them went out the window. H had given her an unbearably teasing hint. Revealed themselves enough to be just within her grasp, while still remaining just outside it. If Kira wanted to discover who H was from the three, she would have to investigate herself, but that could force her to make a mistake. She had to admit it... H was a genius. Close to being her equal.

But there were still some aspects of this plan that she didn't understand. What was the point of giving her three options in the first place? Didn't that just endanger H? Why were they using such an overblown charade to _give_ her that option? High school romance? It was beyond her. What did they gain from this? There had to be a motivation, otherwise they wouldn't be making the effort...

She couldn't focus on that right now. She would think it over later. Right now, she needed to react. Kira had to choose how she was to respond to this "confession". She tried to think from H's perspective. Essentially, she needed to do the opposite to what he wanted... but what he wanted was being concealed from her. She could only take a punt and hope.

No. She was approaching the choice wrong. _Don't think about what H wants. Think about will benefit_ you.

 _All or nothing so let's get to it,_

 _This time stalemate but just you wait,_

 _Clock is ticking so let's just do it,_

 _Let's begin, thick or thin, lose or win,_

 _This is it,_

Kira considered the situation. Her priority had to be to find out who H was. They already knew that she was Kira, which put her below him for the time being, but the ultimate trump card still lay in her hand- the Death Note. The only way she could make use of it was by finding out H was, and the only she could do that was, considering the fact that she now had a list of suspects, to interrogate them.

Hikigaya Hachiman was as good a place to start as any. It occurred to her that H seemed to be egging her to make this choice, and to accept the confession, but since she couldn't see a way in which it benefited him, then it didn't matter. There were factors outside of her control at this moment in time that, again, she would have to mull over later. The only choice that could end well for her was to get closer to Hachiman, and attempt to determine whether he was H or not.

'Wait a minute, Hayama-kun...'

She lifted her hand, commanding the attention of the whole room with ease. Her voice rang out cold and true.

'To be brutally frank, you have no idea what's going on, so I advise that you remain quiet. Let me handle this- since we've already made a spectacle of it, there's little point in feigning secrecy now.'

Kira turned to Yuigahama Yui. 'Yui-san... I sincerely regret how this has turned out. I consider you a friend, and would like you to know that I made no attempt to go behind your back with Hikigaya-kun, as you put it. But... I cannot apologise for what I am going to say next.'

She took a step closer to Hachiman, looking up at him with wide eyes. She made sure her lip was trembling a little. 'Hikigaya-kun, I...' She hesitated. 'I... accept your confession.'

A devastating silence followed when she carefully glanced over the expression of the three under the magnifying glass. All of them were splendid performers. All of them were still in contention to be H. Hayato looked suitably miffed. Hachiman looked suitably conflicted between elation and guilt. Yuigahama looked suitably devastated.

'The truth is, Hikigaya-san... you were wrong to assume I did not know who you were. I never _truly_ knew you, of course, but...' Kira paused, bringing her hands to her chest in a manner she hoped was cute. 'It frustrates me that I can't articulate myself, but... I felt drawn to you. Without even speaking, I felt there was a connection, linking us together even from afar, and...'

She looked up again. Her eyes swam with fake tenderness. 'I would love to know you better, Hikigaya-kun.'

Hachiman's own gaze softened. 'I... thank you, Yukinoshita-san.' He cleared his throat. 'I- I promise to be whatever you need.'

She blushed and glanced away, smiling bashfully. 'T- thank you.'

Then, something happened which, Kira surmised, not even H could have anticipated. A girl with glasses whom Yukinoshita recognised as Ebina Hina let out a long, drawn out sigh of content.

'So! Cute!' she gushed.

 _Just like two actors on a stage,_

 _Go through the motions that we both rehearsed,_

 _Our little new atomic age,_

 _Eyeball to eyeball, we'll see who blinks first,_

A rush of nervous giggles broke out amongst the other members of Class 2F. They were all looking at each other, astounded, still not entirely sure how to react to the rollercoaster they had just witnessed. None of them could have known that, simply by watching, they had saved Hachiman, Yui and Hayato's necks.

Then, an agonised choke burst out. Yuigahama Yui buried her head in arms, desolate, and bolted through the classroom (shoving Hachiman and Kira as she did), disappearing out of the open door.

The awkwardness return as if it had never left.

Hachiman scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. 'Actually, I think some privacy might be good right now.'

Kira nodded, agreeing with him silently, and the two of them followed Yuigahama out the door. As soon as they closed it, the abandoned classroom erupted into a storm of gossip and noise. For just a moment, Kira's eyes met those of Hayato through the circular glass pain. She couldn't quite tell his feelings. Remorse, perhaps?

Hachiman had leant back against the wall of the corridor, resting his head against it sullenly. Kira followed his example, glancing at him every now and then with glimmering eyes.

'I'm sorry about what happened to Yuigahama-san,' she said, offering up her ministrations. 'I didn't mean for it to end so-'

'I'm sorry too. I mean... I've probably ruined your friendship.'

Kira swallowed. 'Yes, but- but on the other hand...' She reached out, interlocking her fingers with his own. 'It means the start of something new, r- right?'

A small smile played on his lips. 'Yes, it does Yukino. I can call you Yukino, right?'

She blushed again. 'Yes... Hachiman.'

They exchanged contact details after that. Hachiman specified that he would call her about possible dates that night, accompanied with some sentimental crap about how he had been dreaming of where to take her for months now. Yukino pretended to lap it up, then said her goodbyes, before heading off towards her homeroom. She knew full well they would be the gossip of the school for a long time to come.

Huh. In the space of fifteen minutes, H had gone from being a mortal enemy (which technically he still was) to possibly being Kira's boyfriend.

 _All or nothing so let's get to it,_

 _This time stalemate but just you wait,_

 _Clock is ticking so let's just do it,_

 _Let's begin, light the fuse, go all in,_

 _Win or lose, lose or win,_

 _This is it._


	3. Playing the Game (pt1)

**Author's Note: And here we (finally) have Playing the Game pt.1, which itself encompasses half of Act Four of The Human Stains. On the other hand, Part Five is the planned final section, which means that this will be the second to penultimate update. :P Soz for the delay- I actually finished an intial draft of this quite quickly but decided a lot of it didn't work and was essentially rubbish, so I had to rewrite long swathes of text. Perfectionism is annoying.**

 **In response to a review from RalphZiggy, there is a very specific reason why the shinigami has been withheld thus far. I'll leave you guys to speculate!**

 **UPDATE: Story as a whole undergoing revisions. New updates coming soon.**

* * *

 **The Human Stains**

 ** _Act Four:_ Playing the Game: pt.1**

Another plan. Another success... for the most part. Hikigaya Hachiman wasn't entirely sure that _any_ plan which intentionally brought him closer to a volatile, hubristic serial killer could really be called successful (or sane, for that matter), but him and Yuigahama had successfully gone on the offensive against Kira. Now, the ball was in her court- only time would tell what her return was like.

Hachiman closed the front door to his household after returning from school just like he always had, but the motion was closely followed by a feeling of release so intense he swore his heartbeat stuttered. Not a relief. It was a release of nerves, of tense, and of a breathtaking fear that had been instilled in the marrow of his bones, shaking them with all the ferocity of the ground underneath the power of a workman's drill. Hachiman had never been particularly inspired by drama, and any participation in plays at school was brought about by the insistence of his teachers that it was compulsory. The recent day at Soubu High had unfurled much like a play as well, with every actor given an equally pivotal part to enact, only that there was nothing as clear and definable as a protagonist and an antagonist. There were no themes or subtext or witty dialogue or teasing camaraderie between the players. There was only the stage, where death awaited the actor that choked on their line.

The prospect of continuing with that level of concentration, with that same unrelenting vehemence, for the foreseeable future while they continued to press forward against Kira was daunting to say the least. But the plan required it. And, he mused, sustained deception was far more agreeable than a quick death. They had split this masterstroke into three main steps. Simple in theory but boundlessly challenging to execute.

Step One: manoeuvre into a position that brought Hachiman closer to Yukino. It couldn't be Yuigahama to assume the role- as had been so in their first and failed attempt with the cookies- for there was a chance Yukino already suspected her. Of course, inserting himself into the fray with their trick in the classroom would only increase these suspicions, but that was the idea. Once they had found out of Kira's connection to Hayato, they'd hatched the trick in a series of almost feverish texts, sent back and forth and back and forth until every fault in logic and practicality had been ironed out, and they felt certain that Yukino would not be able to preempt it. Suggesting that Hayato himself could be H while also asserting themselves as clear possibilities gave Kira a pool just a little too deep for her to kill them off with the Death Note- that is, without attracting the attention that would be her downfall. The biggest gamble involved was how Hayato himself would react. Thankfully, he had done so just as Hachiman predicted, involving himself at their prompt (not that he knew it was a prompt) so as to diffuse the confrontation, thus singling him out for Kira even more than their invitation already had. Their identical initials were a coincidence H was more than grateful for.

The conjured plot of a love triangle, and the confession which Hachiman also correctly predicted Yukino would accept, could only be interpreted by Kira as a method of surprise. Something akin to jumping out of a dark corner and shooting boo. But, in reality, there was method to the madness. Though Hachiman put himself under threat by allowing Kira a free shot at figuring out whether he was H, she put herself in a far more compromising situation. As her boyfriend, Hachiman would be more than entitled to get a closer glimpse at _Yukino_ in return. It may take time, but eventually... Yukino wouldn't be able to put off allowing him into her apartment. It may take awhile, but he was confident in himself. Kira was evidently a petty individual. She was childish. Needlessly competitive. She despised losing. He could goad her into letting him in, and that would give him the golden chance he needed. The chance to snatch the Death Note from right under her nose and win the game, once and for all. Checkmate.

Even after the plan had been given its finishing touches, Hachiman had once again struggled to convince Yuigahama to proceed with it. He knew it could be the only chance they got to win. Their troublesome emotions and doubts had to be discarded. A necessary sacrifice in order to take the piece of Kira's queen. And despite Yuigahama misgivings, which still tugged at Hachiman's conscience, she had played her part beautifully. From now on, closer contact with Kira meant that they couldn't risk her finding their calls and text conversations, so before the plan was carried out they deleted each other's numbers. To all intents and purposes, there could be no more contact between them. Hikigaya Hachiman, H, was now on his own.

Step Two: convince Yukino of his integrity. This was the hardest step of all, but frustratingly, also the most important. The entire plan hinged on it. He had to convince Yukino that his ludicrous confession was, in fact, fashioned by secretly harboured affection alone. That she could strike him from the list of three and then concentrate on Yuigahama and Hayato. It might be enough to simply keep her from reaching the conclusion that he was H, just as long as he eventually managed to worm his way into that damn apartment. She didn't know that _they_ knew about the Death Note, so wouldn't have much of a reason to deny her boyfriend entry, unless she intended to milk the "Let's take it slow" card for all it was worth.

The thought of what he might be subjected to caused bile to rise in his throat. Kisses. Flirting. Fake lovesick gazes and dates with Kira, the murderer of over a thousand people. Sacrifices atop sacrifices.

Hachiman dropped his schoolbag on the doormat, made his way into the living room and then collapsed onto the sofa, feeling utterly exhausted. It wasn't a fulfilled exhaustion either- one that he might feel after achieving all his aims for the day, or by simply getting through it without any interruption of inconvenience. It was one full of apprehension for what the future might hold. He wished that he was able to bring his mind to a halt. To just stop and _relax_ for a moment. But, this perpetual motion in his mind hadn't let up since Yuigahama had approached him, and he not never truly been at ease since. Always waiting or worrying or scheming. He had been reading a light novel series before Kira; now, he had forgotten what it was even called. He wondered if, even after beating her (that is, _if_ he succeeded in that feat), he would ever be able to live so carelessly again.

He closed his eyes for just a moment, only to open them when he heard someone else enter through the door to the living room. He already knew who it would be.

'... Geez, Onii-chan. You look dreadful.'

Hachiman didn't say anything at first. 'That was _so_ low in Komachi points.'

She didn't laugh at the old, hollow sounding joke. Instead, she just shuffled her feet and pouted. Komachi was truly dreadful at hiding when she was irritated.

'Are you gonna tell me why you're mad, or just stand there?'

'I think the real question is if _you're_ gonna tell me why you're mad,' she retorted accusingly.

Hachiman looked away, hoping that the resignation on his face didn't show. He had known that she would bring it up eventually, but had dreaded it regardless.

Komachi sighed, then walked over and sat down beside him.

'... I wish you'd tell me what was wrong, Onii-chan. I thought we'd got past the stage when you'd just mope around, but... it kinda hurts when you don't say cause it feels like you don't trust-'

Hachiman rubbed his eyes. 'No, Komachi, that's not it-'

'Then just say it.' She crossed her arms immaturely. 'Every night for the past few weeks, you've just gone straight up to your room. We've barely spoken; you only come down again to grab some instant ramen or eat the food I made, and then leave without even saying thank you most of the time. It's, like, totally not cool. Plus, sometimes I hear you talking on your phone, which is definitely not normal.'

Hachiman ignored the the subtle-but-not-really-subtle jibe. 'I've just been busy with schoolwork-'

'Too busy to say hello to your favourite imouto? Really?' She hesitated, averting her eyes. 'I'm... I'm just worried about you, Onii-chan. Are people being mean to you at school...? Wait- you didn't confess to someone again, did you-'

'Komachi, no. Look...'

His tongue came to a halt. He felt as if he were stood at a crossroads, with the road ahead, the right path to take, obscured by a hundred possibilities twining in and out of each other. How could he even possibly begin to articulate himself? All of a sudden, he understood Yuigahama's plight before she had originally confided to him about the Death Note. About the secrecy, and the awfulness of that, and the desperation to confide in someone himself but not having the words or even the right to do so. Even to Komachi, the person he trusted so deeply it hurt. Their language had so many phrases and idioms and words that most found themselves encumbered by the dilemma of which to pick; why, amongst so many options, did there not seem a single one which was appropriate?

And then, to entrust Komachi with that... no. Sharing that load would not be a relief. It would not bring him peace knowing that he had someone to rely on. That Komachi would stand by his side no matter what, as had always been an immutable solace to him, had no bearing here. This wasn't something relating to middle school drama, or a case of bullying, or even a fight at school. This was so much more, such that its gravity could never be truly expressed, and he doubted whether Komachi would be capable of detaining it maturely anyway. Endangering Hayato and Yuigahama in his plot was almost too much for him as it was, but involving his own family, endangering his sister's life, would send him spiralling over the proverbial cliff's edge and down to the jagged rocks below.

'... Komachi, don't you have homework to do?'

He didn't look as she gasped, knowing fully well that the offence at his dismissal on her face would shatter his resolve in an instant. Neither did he look as she muttered "idiot Onii-chan" under her breath and stormed out the room.

This, Hachiman could easily admit, was one of the most poignant sacrifices yet.

But even now, time was of the essence. He had a date with fate to organise. First impressions had and always would be pivotal, but especially so here. He had been toying with ideas in his mind on the way home, and since it was Thursday evening and he intended for the date to be Saturday afternoon, he only had a day to make the necessary arrangements. Hachiman could just pick out a cafe, but it didn't exactly scream out, "I've been waiting for this moment since I first meet you". He needed something extra.

He didn't have time to be weary or to regret the confrontation with Komachi, because suddenly his phone was in his hand, and he was typing down notes with a frantic urgency.

* * *

Very early on in the inception of the Service Club, Hiratsuka-sensei had spoken plainly with Kira, telling her that she doubted the newly found club would have a line of clients eagerly awaiting her advice even after it properly established itself. To counteract this, she suggested that they raise the profile of the club, however slightly, by leaving a notice on the Sobu High website. A tab on the dashboard would bring someone to a page where, anonymously if they wished, they could send an email to Yukino detailing their request and expectations to her. The Service Club had a slow and out of date laptop lying misused in a cardboard box at the back of the room, which was still just about capable of receiving these emails. Yukino would, from this, have another and less personal platform for the requests. When they came.

This lack of clientele meant that, for the majority of her club sessions (which closer resembled silent vigils than anything else), the laptop would remain in that cardboard box. But, Friday afternoon, the very day after Yukinoshita Yukino had entered a relationship for the first time, she founded herself logging on due to the urging of a hunch. Kira and H's first date was tomorrow, and the destination was to be a surprise, naturally. Strange that her gender would be a disadvantage here, as it meant that Hachiman, if he was H, could prepare a venue and perhaps a trap in advance.

The hunch told her that, before the date, she just might have another encounter with H. It struck her that, thus far, they hadn't really spoken without the hinderance of social restrictions or facades. H didn't have any specific reason to break this pattern, but... if _she_ were H, and on the trail of a serial killer, she would probably try to keep Kira guessing at any opportunity. Keep Kira apprehensive of their presence.

When an email did come from an anonymous address, she smirked a little.

Even in the day since Yukino's confrontation with Hikigaya Hachiman, Yuigahama Yui and Hayama Hayato, she had found she couldn't get H out of her mind. This wasn't odd in itself, as it was perfectly justifiable that she would be toying with that trio in her head, weighing up the chances that each was H. To a certain extent, that was exactly the purpose of these thoughts. She had perused those individuals over and over again, taking them in like scents on the nose of a sniffer dog, looking at their backgrounds, their personalities, or the personalities that they assumed in public. It was difficult to psycho-analyse someone when they could quite easily, and in fact quite probably be lying, but definitely not nugatory. What was odd was that the thoughts didn't fill her with rage and whatever variant upon that, as it had in the past. Instead, H conjured within her...

Excitement?

It was absurd. H was a mortal enemy. He was chasing her down with every intention of bringing her to life imprisonment, or perhaps even capital punishment. _But,_ Kira thought, _there is a good reason why we have the saying "The thrill is in the chase"._ Yukino had inherited that gene of competitiveness from her parents, who had evidently been ravenously ambitious themselves, and had done nothing to discourage that biting determination. Often, it was competition that brought out one's best performance. But, despite a genuine _desire_ to have a rival, someone to pit herself against, there had never been one for Yukinoshita Yukino. At first, she had thought it was Haruno, but even though there was no difference between them in academic talent, attempting to beat her had proved to be pointless as Haruno never really saw that there was a fight in the first place. Her parents preferred her no matter what Yukino produced, or how high she jumped; they would only glance at her consecutive top grades, because Haruno had already achieved that and so instead of it being an achievement for her it was an expectation. Haruno was the eldest, so she had always been the most important. It was as simple as that. That rival had never been found in Yukino's classes either, as she surpassed them without even batting an eyelid, many times to her detriment.

But here, as Kira, she suddenly found herself with an opponent that took her seriously. An opponent that didn't hold back. An opponent that saw and wanted to defeat her, with the very same ferocity that Yukino herself wanted to defeat them. For once in her life, there was a level playing field, and the two occupants of this playing field were both willing and, perhaps most importantly, both brilliant. Both of them had not only the capacity to manipulate but the force of will to do it, and that very force of will meant that no sacrifice was too great. No piece was too important to put on the line. H had most likely gambled one or more innocent lives in his trick in the classroom, with the same ease that Kira herself took lives with the power of the Death Note. In many respects, they were eerily similar, and tailor made for each other in the match they now found themselves participating in.

Her life was on the line, but... No. _Because_ her life was on the line, Kira found herself with a tingling in her stomach. That aforementioned excitement was building and building. It was a thrill akin to the moment before you climb onto a rollercoaster, or perhaps even the moment that you reach the very peak of the slope.

And then, you fall.

She wondered if H was thinking of her in the same way. Did they just feel hatred? A cold, dispassionate desire to win? Or were they as equally enamoured with the exhilaration of their game as she was?

And here it was. Kira's first glimpse behind the smoke and mirrors of that single letter, and the true person behind them. Would it be Hikigaya Hachiman, her boyfriend, who she would get to know better tomorrow? Yuigahama Yui, the popular girl with hidden gifts? Or Hayama Hayato, a person she hated but one with all the required qualities to be H.

She clicked on the email, revealing his third message to her. Her fingers trembled a little breathlessly on the touch mousepad.

 _'Good afternoon, Kira. This is H. I trust that you're enjoying your Service Club session?'_

She poised herself, calculating a response. There was a chance he could be observing her, somehow. Her reactions, both on email and in real life, needed to appear natural.

 _'Might I inquire whose responsible for this dreadful attempt at comedy?'_

 _'Comedy? I'm being one hundred percent serious, Kira.'_

 _'By accusing me of a being a dangerous mass murderer? I sincerely doubt that. I warn you that I am neither as gullible as you clearly believe me to be, nor hesitant enough to refrain from approaching a teacher about this.'_

 _'Might I answer with a question of my own? What exactly do_ you _find comedic in the deaths of over a thousand people?'_

 _'If you do not have a genuine request for the Service Club, then I will block this address from sending emails to me again and report it to Hiratsuka-sensei. Please express said request in your next email.'_

 _'I_ do _have a request for the Service Club, so there will be no need for that, Kira.'_

She had an idea of what this request might be already.

 _'I'll humour you for the time being, just in case you really do have a valid reason for this correspondence. However, I must insist that you cease addressing me as Kira. Understandably, I found it most insulting that one would liken me to most the dangerous individual on the planet.'_

 _'It is unconditionally arrogant to call yourself the most dangerous individual on the planet. Especially considering the fact we both know I will catch you sooner or later. Then, you will be reduced to yet another maniac in the docks.'_

 _'I am still awaiting your request. Incidentally, I'm beginning to wonder whether you'd even be deserving of my graciously provided charity. You seem far more in need of social etiquette lessons... unless that truly is your motivation for emailing me? In which case, I'm pleased to inform you that you're off to a dreadful start.'_

 _'No. Dishing out etiquette lessons would be very hypocritical of you. But, just what_ should _I refer to you as? Yukinoshita Yukino? The Ice Queen of Sobu High? Or how about God? That is your intention isn't it; to be seen as a God.'_

 _'Just Yukinoshita-san will do fine.'_

He took longer to reply this time, no doubt sensing she would not be easily goaded.

 _'Alright, Yukinoshita-san- since you have offered to grant my request, may I take you up on that?'_

 _'Go ahead, H.'_

 _'Since the first deaths attributed to Kira took place exactly two weeks ago today, I can estimate that was also the day, or at least that was the week, that you acquired the power to act as Kira. I cannot attest to how you commit your murders although I am most intrigued by it. I'm also intrigued by how suddenly you appear to have turned from innocent high schooler to megalomaniac.'_

Kira's eyes stopped on the middle of his email. Was it true that they didn't know about the Death Note? She stored the possibility away, in the hope it might prove useful.

 _'I still fail to see the request in all this monologuing.'_

 _'You've no doubt deduced this much, so there is little point in concealing the fact that I'm also a student at Soubu High. I am working on nobody's jurisdiction but my own; therefore, I just might be a little more forgiving if you were to stop this mindless killing and confess your guilt to me right now. So, here is my ultimatum, Yukinoshita-san: drop this pretence and admit that you're Kira. It's your only chance of escaping from this alive.'_

She really hoped that H didn't think so little of her by hoping she would assent. Of course Kira would not confess. She had not killed over a thousand criminals to turn back now.

 _'Obviously, I cannot grant your request H, though through no fault of my own. Admitting to a crime I had no involvement in would be absurd. But, since you continue to insist on this facade of believing that I am Kira, perhaps I could answer as if were, just to amuse your efforts?'_

He didn't send a reply, so she proceeded.

 _'For starters, you might've had more success fi you made any true attempt to appear as if you were serious in your request. Your language left me feeling antagonised; it is obvious you hold no sympathy towards me despite your contradictory words. I'd feel less safe confessing to you, H, then I would to the police. Hypothetically, of course.'_

 _'You're wrong, Yukinoshita-san. I'd wager that I'm far more sympathetic than any police offer. In some ways, I admire you. Not in the sense that I'd aspire to your level of cruelty, but in the sense that to use your power for such an unassailable aim requires a great amount of resolve. Unless that power granted you some additional mental clarity, its astonishing you'd have the arrogance to endeavour to take on the world.'_

 _'Did you honestly just say that you admire Kira? My word, H- any more statements from where that came from and I'd question your sanity.'_

 _'Of course you would take that as a compliment. When you look on everything you've done, and everyone you've murdered, can you really see only righteousness?'_

 _'Can_ you _really see only evil in Kira's plans, H? Does the world that they've envisioned really only sicken you?"_

She decides she has more to say in this regard, so types a second email before he can respond.

 _'Before we continue in such an insulting vein, H, might I make a request of my own?'_

 _'Go on.'_

 _'As you've probably gathered from my emails thus far, I would openly admit to being nowhere near as nauseated by Kira's actions as others claim to be. Since you appear to be positioned steadfast against them, I'm sure it would be compelling to discuss them without immaturity, entirely for the sake of debate between two measured and intelligent individuals. I find the others in our year to be pitifully lacking in all those qualities.'_

 _'Is there anything to debate? What Kira's doing is evil.'_

 _'But why? There are many times when I have looked at that corrupt politician or that crooked lawyer and thought that no one would mourn them if they just disappeared.'_

 _'And that justifies their murder to you, does it?'_

 _'Yes, it does. A human has a compulsion to aspire to be the best possible version of themselves. If a person has done nothing with their by life but be greedy and violent, then surely they have forfeited their humanity anyway.'_

 _'I agree. The people that you kill are the scourge of this Earth. Perhaps even "evill". I myself have wondered whether I might've considered your course of action if I had your ability, whatever that is. Even at your age, I am sure that we are connected in experiencing the pettiness of people. I too have felt alone and alienated, and wished that the people who brought about that alienation might just disappear. That the world could only be good and virtuous.'_

 _'Then why, H, have you determined to defeat me?_

 _'Because of what you have achieved as Kira, or put better,_ not _achieved as Kira. This is precisely why I want to give you a chance to turn around and go back. I believe that you have made a grave mistake, and that I too were mistaken for making that wish. There is an enormous difference thinking in ideals and seeing them realised. In striving for that virtue and goodness you have created nothing but fear and suffering. I warn you, Kira: you will not cultivate a brave new world because humans will always do evil and_ be _evil beyond description or prevention. Once your power is gone, and the name Kira is but a myth, a relic of the past, humanity will still look identical in its despicable ugliness to the crooks that you kill, because they themselves are human. And the irony, Kira, is that you and I are absolutely no different to them. So give in, Yukinoshita-san. I am not speaking to Kira, to God or even the Ice Queen. If there is anything left of the foolish teenage girl sat at a laptop, then you will listen to me.'_

Kira's fingers paused, suspended above the keys of the laptop. Her eyes shone blood red.

 _'You are nothing but a coward H, and cowardice is a sin in itself. You have forfeited your place in my heaven.'_

She paused again, and then sent another email.

 _'At least, I assume that's how Kira would respond. Did my impersonation impress you?'_

H didn't email her again, so after five minutes, she turned off the screen and returned to her reading. It was difficult to concentrate on the words through the surging pumps of her heart. Their latest encounter had, maybe inexplicably, only whetted her appetite for those yet to come. Tomorrow, without warning, couldn't seem to come fast enough.

* * *

H left his house at one o'clock that Saturday without telling Komachi or his parents anything about the date. He had allowed himself to sleep in until eleven, mostly because he had found himself awake, sweating, in the small hours of the morning. This had been happening so regularly of late that it was beginning to border on habitual, but last night his mood had been more saddened than brooding.

His email exchange the previous afternoon had once again heightened his senses to the truth behind the figurehead of Kira. In essence, the person he was facing, and not the projected image that she wanted him to believe that he was facing. He had never found it difficult to see Kira as a villain, as merely a serial killer, before that exchange. Now, the boundaries between Kira and student, between murderer and misguided, did not seem quite as blurred; in contrast, they stood tall and firm. Yukino had proven her intentions to be malicious with an enthusiasm so intense that most would disregard her as completely insane and beyond any rescue, but H himself could be both the detective and the young adult, the schemer and the brother, the Machiavellian and the selfless, whenever he saw fit. Sometimes, his performance had been so convincing it became a challenge to figure out which was truth and which was lie even for himself. It seemed not too ridiculous an idea that Kira herself could be drawn into their own performance just as deeply: pulled into their character with all the intense concentration and devotion of a method actor- that she lost something along the way. An innocence that once belonged to her original person, and not to Kira, that was borrowed with no intention of return.

The side of him that pitied and sympathised wanted Kira not to be Kira at all, but a hopelessly misguided Yukinoshita Yukino. He wished that the innocence gifted to everyone at birth still remained with her, hidden away, utilised for improper purposes of deception and trickery by Kira, but nonetheless still very much in existence.

The ruthless side, however, didn't care anymore. Hikigaya Hachiman wanted a resolution, whereas H just wanted an ending. An ending where, preferably, the girl he had come to resent was on the losing side.

It was very probably H that left through the door that afternoon.

Since it was his responsibility to plan the date, he had decided that they would start off with something conventional and then, as it progressed, surprise her with something a little more… intimate. But, for the first stage of their date to go smoothly, he would have to look (and act) the part of an adolescent with a simple crush. He had given his hair a brush for the first time in a couple of months, slicking it over his forehead into something that he hoped was a quiff (fashion had and never would be his strength). He smelled of stolen cologne from his father's bathroom closet, but the smell was very probably pleasant to the nose of one more attuned to such things. He wore a shirt that was smart without being so formal as to invite mockery of a pale white colour, and light blue jeans that fit him well. Overall, a significant change from his regular choice of T-shirt and shorts. This, if one were judging by such superficial standards, was just about as close to a rom com lead as Hikigaya Hachiman could get.

He pulled out his phone as he walked down the street, deciding to double check with Yukinoshita that she knew the location of the cafe he had chosen. It seemed suitably ordinary to choose the very same place that he had overheard her talking with her sister about Hayato. This was only a first date, so they weren't close enough for an upper class restaurant or anything eye-catching just yet. If it went well enough, he would take her to the next place he had in mind, just a couple of streets away.

 _Hachiman: Hey Yukino! :) Just making sure we're on the same page about place and time? 1:30 at the cafe near Sobu High, right?_

 _Yukino: Indeed. I confess that I've gone over it several times already. I might arrive a little late, but am very excited to get to know you better._

She left a heart emoji at the end of her text. He returned it, hoping he wouldn't vomit while doing so.

Upon arriving at the cafe, he was glad to find that it was only half full and the noise of the conversations hung only lightly on the air waves; nowhere near loud enough to be disturbing but not quiet enough to be awkward. Just as he'd hoped it would be. Deciding he would order when Yukinoshita arrived out of politeness, he headed away from the entrance and chose a table of two in the corner of the restaurant, a couple of tables away from anyone else and warmed by the presence of the radiator beside it. He took off his jacket. It felt homely, a feeling only ripened by the ensnaring scent of the coffee.

He checked his watch. 1:33 PM. Kira would be arriving soon.

H shut his eyes, allowing himself a moment of respite from the tension. _It's alright. Calm down. You_ need _to be calm for this._ He knew full well that his mind would need to be on red alert, constantly searching for shifts, for changes, as sensitive and reciprocal to Kira as an earthquake receiver. She wouldn't give the slightest tremour to him away, and she could be assured that H would return the favour.

And yet... why was his mind drifting to Yuigahama Yui at a moment as pivotal as this? Why, all of sudden, could he see pink dyed hair fluttering tantalisingly across his vision, and the sound of her voice as she chastised him for something or other. Was she fretting? A stupid question. Of course she was. If it were _she_ out on a date with Kira, then he would be incapable of thinking of anything else. He wondered briefly, and not for the first time, if the unfathomable connection he now shared with Yuigahama would have been possible if it weren't for Kira, and what's more, if this even mattered. Hachiman surely did not care if their... if their _friendship_ , for lack of a better word, was built on a foundation of insecurity and of comforting simply for the sake of there being no else to provide that comfort. It was still a comfort to-

'H- Hachiman!'

H opened his eyes, and the pink-dyed hair was replaced by that of darker shade.

There is an old saying that goes as follows: "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". H, in that moment of looking and seeing Kira before him, doubted the existence of a beholder across the whole wide world who wouldn't perceive this woman as beautiful. If anything, "beautiful" seemed insufficient. It was the first time he had seen her wearing make up: her personality seemed exactly the kind to disagree with feminine items of that nature, and so its spellbinding effect was probably contradictory. But, if that hesitancy even existed, it clearly hadn't affected her in the application process; her eyelashes were accentuated by a delicate layer of mascara that twisted and slicked them upwards, her cheeks polished by a hint of red blush, her lips adorned by a chaste scarlet lipstick, and all these delicate touches brought out the natural perfection of her face so that she seemed peeled straight off a billboard for high end perfume. Her body had always been noticeably slim to H, but that same slender curve of the hip was turned from an imperfection (if indeed it had been that in the beginning) to a defining feature by the pale white dress that clutched her tightly and finished just above the kneecap. It showed just enough of her thighs to leave H feeling lascivious for so much as noticing them, but concealed enough to complete a picture of irresistible, sensuous innocence. A far cry, he knew all too well, from Kira's honest nature, but as ever, a thoroughly convincing illusion.

The kind of illusion you almost wouldn't _mind_ being lost within.

'Allow me to offer my s- sincerest apologies for not being punctual. It's absolutely terrible of me,' came her siren call.

H tried not to notice the way Kira's lips parted to allow the escape of low, raspy pants. They were impossibly tempting. He could sense several eyes from the rest of the restaurant on Kira's bowed shape, and imagine just as easily the kind of thoughts going through their heads.

'That's fine. I only got here a couple of minutes ago I myself,' he replied, allowing his voice to tremble just enough. His cheeks flushed. 'You... look incredible.'

Her own voice did the same. '... Thank you. I w- wanted... I hoped you'd say that.'

H stood up and pulled out the seat for his girlfriend, which she accepted gratefully. The waitress asked for their orders, and wrote down a MAXX Coffee and a cup of peppermint tea respectively. He returned to his seat and suddenly, H and Kira were sat opposite each other, as if a board game lay on the table in front of them.

There was a pause as both of them awaited the first move.

 _Time to rethink,_

 _And begin with a brand new game plan,_

 _Margin for error is slim,_

Kira was very happy with the way that Hachiman reacted to her entrance. She decided it would be perfect to arrive just a little late, if only to draw attention to her carefully constructed appearance and unbalance him mentally. Or rather, physically. For the first time in her life, it seemed that her beauty was to be advantageous to her instead of an invitation for jealousy. H was only a man (if he _was_ Hachiman); an intelligent man but a man regardless, and the majority of them were all the same. Driven and controlled not by the brain, but by another organ located slightly lower down on the human anatomy. Dressing to flaunt her body was certainly not something that she was used to or even enjoyed, but if it helped to give her the upper hand, then her previous insecurities were irrelevant. She picked the dress out on the merit of it being the slimmest cut in her wardrobe, and by far the shortest. The kind of whorish item that Haruno would wear and, incidentally, it was her elder sister who had purchased it for her. She also took some of her sister's make up, practising with and making use of it herself. Looking back at her immaculate reflection in the mirror, Kira couldn't help but be proud. It was an overblown and excessive image, but fittingly divine in its execution.

H, if only instinctively, clearly agreed with her. His eyes had lingered just a little too long on her lips, and the strap of the dress on the right side that lay dangerously close to falling from the precipice of her shoulder.

'I hope that my directions were clear enough?' he asked, voice uncertain.

'I'm sorry if that was why you were late-'

'Oh no, of course not! Y- your direction's were perfectly inadequate- it was my own mistake while following them. Uh... not to say that I'm incompetent, or... ah...' She trailed off, averting her eyes, still blushing. Ridiculous, for she had been to this very cafe several times before.

He offered her a smile. 'Nervous too, huh?'

'Yes. I've never been on a da... done something of this kind before.'

'Well, neither have I, so I guess we're both in the same boat. We can help each other out as we go along, Yukino.'

'Thank you Hachiman, but I can't help but fret regardless. I... sincerely hope that my company is pleasant.'

'Oh, please. _I'm_ the one who should be worrying about being poor company. You're Yukinoshita Yukino! Y'know, only the most amazing person in school.'

'I... I hope you know that the majority, if not all of the rumours that the morons at Sobu High spread about me are untrue.'

'At least they consider you worthy of rumour- people usually talk negatively out of insecurity more than any true dislike. I, on the other hand, might as well be wearing camouflage gear twenty four seven.'

Kira giggled girlishly at the comment. 'I can't disagree with that. I knew of you, of course, but I suppose we are alike in more ways than I thought.'

The humour in Hachiman's gaze evaporated for a moment. 'Have you had an... I mean, ah, do you mind me asking if you've ever-'

'Had any friends?' She drew a circle on the table with her finger, as if it bothered her. 'Not. Not as such.'

'Not even in elementary or middle school?'

'... No.'

'Then we're alike in _another_ respect.' His smile returned. 'You shouldn't let it bother you. Even without truly knowing you yet, I can tell you're worth more than all of them put together.'

'Thank you Hachiman. Th- the feeling is mutual.'

Kira considered reaching out for his hand, but decided it was too early. Instead, she settled for playing with the long strands of her hair, flustered to anyone at a glance.

'The rumours were right about one thing though, Yukino.'

'What's that?'

'You really are the most beautiful girl at Sobu High.'

Most blushing. More playing with the hair. More ushered shows of gratitude. The majority of her reactions were wholly fabricated, but she couldn't deny that many of his compliments were justified. She was indeed the most beautiful girl at Sobu High, and the most intelligent and tenacious and cunning and desirable and, finally, the most powerful. Soon, she would be the most powerful in the whole world too.

But, as Kira chose a moment to take in Hikigaya Hachimanos appearance fully, she couldn't help but think of a few hyperboles of her own. During their initial meeting, her mind had already been overflowing, disturbed by the presence of Class 2F's intruding eyes, so the image she had contrived of him in her head was quite different to the image before her now. It helped that he too had decided to present himself to her in the most pristine condition possible. She recalled noting that both his presence and he himself had been astonishingly unimposing. Scruffy hair, barely presentable uniform, a face that was neither difficult nor easy to look on. But the warm yellow light of the cafe above splashed over the same jet-black hair (which she saw was almost the same colour as her own) and suddenly, she thought it rather striking. The hastiness had been replaced with a firm sense of conviction, and the dead fish pupils were no longer disconcerting but enigmatic, and his shoulders looked broad, begging for the touch of feminine fingers that would trace their outline, caressing down to the bottom hem of his suit.

Kira allowed the shortest of breaths to rush from her lips. She decided that she would much prefer H to be Hikigaya Hachiman than Hayama Hayato or Yuigahama Yui. This wasn't because he was close to being handsome. Not at all. He wasn't boyishly handsome, like the blonde soccer captain, and yet he still brimmed with a strange... not quite the roguish sort, but... an introspective masculinity.

She felt like she knew both Hayato and Yuigahama already, and she did- that is, if they weren't H. But Hachiman? She didn't know him in the slightest. He would be a new and all too enticing adversary.

 _She's on the brink,_

 _She can win, I can use the same plan,_

 _Time to start thinking like her,_

The conversation continued with formalities for awhile. The new couple engaged in them with twinkling and star filled eyes, feigning rapture with the airy flirting, like the details of their counterpart's morning routine were in fact Shakespearean rhyming verse.

H would confess to being hugely frustrated by it all. Kira was keeping the date, so far anyway, grounded firmly in the realm of superficiality; he would have to step up his game if he wished to talk with her about something of real benefit to him. The peppermint tea and the MAXX Coffee arrived and were finished without any progress made. This wasn't the only source of his frustration, however. The longer they lingered in pointlessness, in the cornerstones of regular dates between regular couples, H found himself noticing more and more and more how irritatingly, distractingly attractive Kira was. This was her trap, of course. Though his and Yuigahama's plan had been successful in setting up a shot at capturing the Death Note, it had also given Kira a position of momentary higher ground. _They_ already knew that she was Kira, and she too was aware of their knowledge. She was keeping up Yukinoshita Yukino's image as a means of catching H out, rather than as a disguise. But H? If _his_ disguise, his image, faltered even once…

At long last, he managed to turn the conversation towards family, of which more information could be useful to him.

'So... well, I'm sorry if this sounds intrusive, but I heard from the aforementioned rumour mill that you live in an apartment instead of with your family?'

Kira nodded. 'Yes. It's in a complex only a twenty, thirty minute or so walk away. The views of Chiba from my balcony are quite breathtaking.'

She wouldn't give it up easily. 'It sounds great. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my family, but sometimes you can't help but wonder if it would be nice to have a little more independence.'

'Yes... I suppose it would seem appealing from the outset.'

'From the outset?'

'Oh, d- don't be mislead. I stand by my decision to move away from my family's mansion; it has granted me with an enormously welcome clarity. A peace of mind, if you will. I find I can concentrate and study more effectively in my apartment, but I'll grant it can get a little lonely sometimes, all alone however many feet off the ground. It feels as if you're ruling a world that only you yourself are aware of.'

 _And soon, you hope to add to that empire,_ H thought, with far more cynicism than his expression would suggest. She was refusing to part with any information on the rest of the Yukinoshitas, deftly avoiding the topic. Perhaps if he gave her additional incentive...?

'It sounds like things were a bit rocky with your family? I'm sorry. I know how it feels to be distant from your parents.'

Her eyes, briefly, flashed. He tried to ignore it.

'Yet another similarity between us! It's becoming almost eerie... but it seems the issue we have with our parents are opposites.'

'What do you mean?'

'Forgive me for jumping to the conclusions, but I got the sense that, perhaps, your parents haven't paid as much attention to you as they should? For me, the dilemma has always been an insistence on paying too _much_ attention. They are... the overbearing sort, to say the least.' She sighed. 'It was a relief when I convinced them to let me live on my own for a year.'

'I'd rather have parents who cared enough to interfere than ones who didn't. Sometimes, I go without seeing my parents for days at a time. They're your average, day to day corporate slaves, but... well, I can think of nothing I'd rather be less, but their intentions are good. They make enough to put food on the table and pay the mortgage. But I can't help but wonder how me and Komachi would've turned out if-'

'If they were there?'

'Yes.'

'Every cloud has a silver lining, Hachiman,' she said softly. 'You sound close with your sister. That must amount to a great deal, surely?'

'That's probably true. I'm... not sure I'd know what do with myself if Komachi weren't there.'

He nodded. Inside, he was disappointed. Kira was adamantly refusing to elaborate on her own sibling. If he were to press further, he'd only look suspicious. The door had been closed.

But, H found he disliked that Kira should have the final word. So, deciding to test the waters, he reached over the table, gently touching her fingertips with his own. She seemed surprised for a moment, but took the contact in her stride.

Her index finger ran over the length of his thumb. Kira's skin, peachy white, unbearably smooth, pleasant to the touch. H shivered, despite the boiling heat of the radiator beside him.

At this rate, he would been as insane as her before the date was over.

 _What would I do if I got inside his head,_

 _Thought like her instead,_

 _Could it be,_

 _Possibly,_

 _I'll catch them when…_

'Would you like a bite to eat?' H asked, breaking the contact.

'I had something before I came, so nothing substantial, if anything.'

As she spoke, one of the waiters walked past them cradling a appetising slice of victoria sponge cake. H's attention was only caught for a moment, but it was long enough for Kira. She giggled again. H was becoming accustomed to the difference in her voice, no matter how unnatural it came across- the ice had thawed, and been replaced with a falsely affectionate warmth.

'Do you like what you see?'

'Definitely.'

Yet another giggle from the serial killer. The implication wasn't lost on her.

When the waiter weaved back through the tables in their direction, H stopped them and asked for a slice of the cake. They jotted it down and returned promptly a couple of minutes later with his order. The slight glint in H's eyes wasn't false; his sweet tooth was irrepressible.

Kira leaned forward over the table just as he picked up the fork. 'MAXX Coffee and now cake as well? I think I'm beginning to see the kind of food you like.'

'I admit my diet isn't the best in the world, no.'

H always liked to start off by eating the icing. It was the portion with the most sugar content, and therefore also the best.

'You should be more careful with your calorie intake. Bad habits die hard.'

' _All_ habits die hard, Yukino. Besides, it's actually a well known fact that sugar is an essential energy for your brain. Parents just like to forget about that.'

'Well, I prefer my men to be intelligent, so you'd better eat up.'

His fork paused, just over the top of the sponge, tiny flecks of white icing on the edges of the metallic spikes. _Damn it_. The comment had come out of nowhere- the words themselves weren't overtly suggestive, but her tone turned from sweet to something a little huskier, and a little lusty, and a little more menacing, off-colour and off-putting. He hadn't expected to start straying into more personal territories so fast. He could just imagine the smugness on her face, but upon looking up, it was gone.

H wasn't to be outdone.

'Would you like a piece?' he asked.

She gasped like a riajuu. Once more, an innocent little dove. 'Oh, I couldn't possibly-'

'-come on-'

'-Hachiman! Girls like me need to watch their figure.'

'And just what kind of girl are you, Miss Yukinoshita Yukino?'

She glanced away, embarrassed. 'I... I didn't intend for that to sound arrogant. You must understand that my family is of... a certain status, I suppose, and there are societal expectations-'

'You're not seriously worrying about crap like that, are you?' H's grin widened teasingly. He probably looked like a cheshire cat. A cheshire cat on the prowl for a bird like, say, a dove. 'Add a little spice to your youth! Or sugar, I guess. Either way.'

She hesitated, as if the matriarch of the Yukinoshitas were standing right behind her. Then, there were two smiling cheshire cats in the cafe.

'Alright, Hachiman.'

The fork, at last, pierced the cake and then H held it out, gesturing to his girlfriend that she should take a bite. Kira leaned forward and opened her mouth, eyes wide like two sapphire full moons, and then closed them over the fork, pulled back, swallowed long, and H cursed himself for wondering which of the two, the cake or her lips, would boast the sweetest flavour.

'It's... delicious,' she whispered.

'I'm sure it would be.'

He fed her another piece, and then she returned the sentiment. Maybe H really _had_ managed to get cast in a romantic comedy film. After the sixth bite, the cake had all but disappeared but for the remaining crumbs on the dish, lingering like smouldering rubble on a battlefield. Some of the shrapnel had also come to rest around Kira's mouth.

'You've got some around here,' H said, gesturing with his finger.

She blinked, and now it was her gorgeous, curling eyelashes that were impossible not to notice. 'Oh! My apologies, do you have a napkin-'

'It's fine. I prefer my women to be dirty, so you'd better leave it as it is.'

Kira's eyes glistened red, close to imperceptible. The grating chuckle emerged again like an unwelcome character's leitmotif in an opera, but the resonance was different this time. A little less controlled. Evidently Kira, not just Yukinoshita Yukino, was enjoying this. And evidently, H himself was not, if the also close to imperceptible tremble of his finger could be trusted. Her eyes remained on his face. She didn't notice his hands (H thought), but it was warning enough, precarious enough, for him to react. This wasn't following the direction that he wished. They could exchange increasingly less subtle innuendos all day and very probably longer, and just as easily end up skewing the line in the sand further, but it wasn't getting him any closer to that shimmering trophy of Kira's apartment. He nodded internally. It was just about time that he hurried their date onward, and retake the ever exchanging, ever altering authority between the two sides.

He took Kira's hands unexpectedly, his grip less slack, less sanitised. She didn't so much as flinch.

'Let's leave.'

'L- leave?'

'Yeah. This cafe's making me stuffy, and besides... I wanna show you something.'

She enforced a firm grip of her own. 'Are you sure? I'm rather enjoying myself-'

'I'd enjoy myself wherever I was if you were there. But...' He paused, before getting up from his seat and moving closer to Kira. Those magnetic lips fluttered like butterfly wings as he lowered himself to her ear and whispered.

'I think you already know how much I like you, Yukino. There's a place, not too far away from here. It's one of my favourite places in all of Chiba. I... can think of no one more perfect to share it with.'

'... I'll ... go anywhere with you, Hachiman.'

He twisted and caught the eye of the waiter, signalling for the bill. Kira protested when he pulled out his wallet, but relented upon his insistence to be a gentlemen. After trapping a hefty yen tip under the empty chinaware tea cup, him and Kira headed back out into the street, arms wrapped around each other as any couple might. The sky was overcast, hinting rather obviously at coming rainfall. H, usually so observant, missed this hint due to a more pressing matter. Quite literally. Kira's hip was painstakingly clear against his own, even through the white fabric of her dress.


	4. Playing the Game (pt2)

**Yes, I really am updating this again. I don't know if updates will be fast, but I definitely want to finish this story, so I'll do my best. I've also done my best to replicate the style of the previous material, but as anyone reading will know it's been a long time since I last wrote anything Human Stains related. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy Playing the Game pt.2!**

* * *

 **The Human Stains**

 ** _Act Four_ : Playing the Game: pt.2**

'So, this is where you wanted to take me?'

'Yes, Yukino.'

Kira stared at the small bookshop that Hikigaya Hachiman, _her boyfriend_ , had brought her too. _Her boyfriend_. No matter how many times she mobilised her considerable intellect to the task of making sense of those two words, and their plain absurdity, she couldn't deny that this seemed the most ridiculous thing that had happened to her in the past weeks. Even more absurd than the discovery of the Death Note, and the divine power that it had invested in her. Even more than her vision of a world untouched by sin and corruption, and the mere fact such a vision, with the Death Note clutched in her hands, could be chiselled, name by name, into being. A _boyfriend_? A boyfriend who could well be the one person with the capability of bringing that vision crashing to the ground?

She giggled, sticking diligently to the saccharine image of a teenage girl in love that, on their date so far, had been her standard. "Hachiman… I suppose I should have expected such a place would be the kind you treasured, but… you've managed to charm me all the same."

Of course the boy that she had found himself trapped in a psychological tug of war with, the ramifications of which would shape the collective morality of thousands, would be an avid reader; loners, the people that high-schools so often spat out, always found their way to that solace eventually. Kira could attest to that herself. Escapist fictions were to life what sugars were to a bitter cup of coffee, and in the cafe where they had been flirting so blatantly, Hachiman had been drinking MAXX Coffee, probably the most sickeningly sweet drink there was. But loneliness didn't just foster a love of reading- it fostered cynicism. It fostered intellect, and knowledge of humans beyond a person's years. Could this be what spurred H into action? Was this loneliness, the kind that fashioned Yukinoshita Yukino into Kira, the same kind that fashioned Hikigaya Hachiman into H?

It was becoming more and more tempting for her that Hachiman was H. The whole day, thus far, had been tempting. The date. The green tea she had drank. The cake they had shared, and the subtext-filled glances and the subtle body contact, the brushing of fingers over the table, that despite being slight were so physically loaded as to be close to sensual. Logically, that had to be H's plan- to seduce her into the calm that would allow him to pin something on her, if indeed that was what he was scheming. But it was still possible that this was just Hikigaya Hachiman trying to impress his beautiful new girlfriend. That the subtext in their glances was different for him, and the electricity flooding between them was coming from two, different sources. His more innocent, her's more of that misguided, fiery passion. H could still be Yuigahama Yui or Hayama Hayato, and so Kira could not allow that seduction to take hold fully-

Suddenly, Hachiman reached round, curling his fingers around her waist and pulling her closer. Her breath hitched, partly intentionally, partly not, and she thought that his did too. While walking over to the bookstore they had been unnaturally close to each other too, drawing looks from several in the street as a result. The sensation of his firm fingers against her white dress, against the hip beneath it, would be enough to send a mortal crazy. Thankfully she, Kira, the God of a brave new world, was unburdened by such trappings. Mostly.

 _My, Hachiman… if you_ are _H, I'd almost think you'd been with a woman before._

'Yukino… Like I said, this place is very special to me. I've spent whole days here before, just enjoying the peace and quiet… It's not exactly Disneyland, but I love it all the same. And… I wanted to share it with you, above anyone else.'

'D- don't worry, Hachiman! I love it too. You can probably tell that these kind of places appeal to me just as much you. I…' She laughed, maintaining her "lovestruck" breathlessness. 'We'll have to start keeping score of all our similarities, won't we Hachiman?'

'Don't you worry either, Yukino. I've been keeping score this whole time.'

 _As have I, H. You can be sure of it._

The bookstore had an easy, relaxed charm, with the wooden shelves and floorboards that she could see through the outside window. She could definitely imagine Hikigaya Hachiman, and maybe even H, spending hours perusing books and light novels in this bookstore if only to escape, just for awhile, from the pressures that social interactions inevitably wielded. They stepped inside the bookshop today, though, with a very different intention, far from relaxing- to outwit, and to dominate the other. Kira wished to give voice to the anger of a world that usually stayed in passive deference to those that abused it. H wanted that silence to persist, and for that she could never forgive his sins. Their games and dates and manipulations may have been entertaining or pleasurable or however she was to describe it, but Kira could not lose sight of her aim for a moment. _H will die a miserable, lonely death_. But she would take this visit to a bookstore, and whatever H had in store for her, as it came.

 _I'll look through his eyes and see what he sees,_

 _And then improvise until I can learn what puts him at ease,_

Hachiman had gone into his date with Kira prepared. _I definitely had a plan,_ he tells himself, cursing. _I had steps, and schemes to catch her out, and ways to get out of danger if things went wrong._ But any plan could give the impression of being flawless beforehand, only to fall flat on its face in practice. Hachiman saw that he had failed to legislate for the one factor most dangerous to him: Kira herself. Too often he was thinking only about the power she had usurped. The Death Note. Its strengths and weaknesses, and ways to avoid the sad fate it threatened him with at the most minor of errors. He wasn't thinking about the hold over people that Kira already possessed. As soon as she sat down, adorned in that frustratingly distracting dress, with her red lips as chastening to his peace of mind as alcohol was to a drunkard, those preparations had crumbled to ash. Hachiman could read people just fine, but put an attractive woman in front of him, and consistently he'd proven himself a clueless fool.

But it was not Hikigaya Hachiman leading Kira into the bookstore that, once upon a time, he had frequented. It was H, and H knew the kind of game that Kira wanted played. _If she intends to play dirty, then I'll play dirty too._

He winced a little at his choice of word, even in his head. _I've said something like that to her already, back in the cafe..._ he thought. _Is she really unaffected by this… this disgusting flirting? How can she be?_

 _She's probably laughing at how badly I'm handling this date. She's probably wondering how on Earth someone this incompetent could be H… although hopefully, that will play to my advantage. Either way, she wants me thinking more about her body than the task at hand._

Shrinking from the truth that Kira was succeeding admirably in that aim, H concentrated in showing her the bookshelves. They were stood in a very back room of the shop, out of earshot of the shopkeeper and able to hear the footsteps of anyone coming towards them. All the time, he remained pressingly aware of the feeling of Kira's slender frame, so close to his own as to feel like they were the same person. He was taller than Kira, but look down and all he could see was an endless stream of black hair, the captivating smell of the floral shampoo she used, and the fake earnestness of her gaze. H himself had instigated a fair amount of the contact, of the flirting, desperate to keep apace with her, to add fuel to the fire of their game. But he had a limit. He needed to get into her apartment. He needed to get to the Death Note. There was only so much use that flirting had in that objective.

For getting into the apartment… H already had another plan. Perhaps this one wouldn't flicker into nothing like the last.

'Look here,' Hachiman said, picking out a familiar book from the shelf. 'I don't usually like plays, especially not English ones, but this… I picked this up purely because the cover caught my eye, and I've had a bit of a fascination with it ever since.'

He couldn't enact that plan now and, as usual with Kira, would need more than a little luck for it come off anyway. In the hope that H could keep up the veneer of a carefully planned date, instead of a carefully planned interrogation, he only pulled out the play in the hope it would sustain the conversation. Now, he realised his unintentional choice couldn't have been more appropriate.

Kira, still pressed up against him, his hands still on her waist, tilted her head when seeing the title. 'Dr Faustus, by Marlowe? Should I be impressed, Hachiman? I'm aware of the story, but I've not read it…'

'You should. I strongly suggest it,' H replied, opening the book to one page in particular. '… I wonder how many people relate to Faustus' actions, deep down? In selling his soul to the devil… You know the kind of crap our fellow classmates would say: "of course not, what he's doing is morally wrong...".'

Kira's eyes were glinting again. "People never admit to having sympathies with actions that are generally considered "wrong", as if "wrong" can even be defined. About Faustus' actions, I'm right in saying that in exchange for his soul, he's given the power to do whatever he wants?'

'Yes. 24 years of whatever pleasure he could possibly conceive.'

'… Yes. Our classmates, or anyone for that matter, would never admit that those 24 years could just as likely have been a time that changed people's lives for the better. In the same hands of someone greater than Faustus, I suppose. Someone who could dream bigger, and without arrogance, or selfishness. They could change the world in 24 years, and then be taken away, to heaven or hell, safe in the knowledge that one soul was a meagre price for the redemption of a billion.'

H had to hold himself back. This was undoubtedly the same voice, the same reasoning, that he had debated with over the Service Club's email system. If he could recall her method of debate so clearly, then it was logical that Kira would be able to recall his own. The way he responded could not be the same, though in some ways he longed they could pit their wits against each other like that once more. Their last exchange of rhetoric had been exhilarating in a way H would not dare admit to himself.

So, still keeping his hand tight on her waist, H shrugged. 'In all honesty, I don't think I was as interested in the moral implications. More in what it told about human nature in general. People like Faustus will disregard any of their "morality" just for a shot at self-gratification. In the end, he doesn't even use those 24 years wisely. He wastes it- all that power, gone without its potential ever fulfilled.'

Whether she saw through the thin cover-up, H wasn't certain, but she clearly thought it a good enough chance to try and disrupt him. She shifted until she was facing H head on instead of standing beside him, forced his fingers to interlock with her own, and looked deep into his eyes like she could pluck the world of black-and-white justice in her visions from somewhere inside his gaze.

'Hachiman, I'm… I'm really glad that we can have these kind of discussions. I'm really glad that… that we felt that attraction to each other, even from afar. Even when all I could do about it was watch you walking to a lesson in a school corridor. For so much of my life, I just assumed that there was no one else, that there _could be_ no else in my life, who saw things filtered to the same perception as mine. Someone that… that I could have something genuine with.'

Hachiman's pretended to smile fondly at her. He pretended that lifting her hands to his lips and kissing them, transfixed, was the genuine that Kira spoke of. But her perverse use of that word, _genuine_ , angered him beyond measure. _Genuine? Don't make me laugh._ It was as if Kira had already anticipated how important such a relationship would be to him; how a genuine connection, ugly but true, was worth more to him than any ideal of justice or any game of wit. It was as if she knew the fury it would stir inside him that someone, Kira or otherwise, would label this kind of hollow deception real.

 _These kind of lies… even if they were founded on the basis of something exciting or real… can never be genuine. I know that, Kira. And so do you._

H loathed to feel this animalistic rush of blood, of desire, when he kissed her hands again and she, in turn, insisted on that girlish giggle. He _loathed_ it.

'You feel it too then, Hachiman? That this… this thing between us… could be something perfect.'

'… Yes.' His response wasn't curt, but if she pressed him any further, it might have been. And, sensing the unwillingness, Kira did exactly that.

'I… there are more things that I want to say to you, Hachiman, but… I think I might find it more reassuring if you were to try and say them yourself? Please, try and tell me how you feel… then, I might have a chance of articulating them in my own time.'

H found that he could not. Say a word and she would be able to discern the complicated jumble of revulsion and the very opposite of that in his voice. But, thinking on his feet, he saw a way of getting around it; of maintaining the boyfriend facade, of holding back the conflict in his chest and mind, and perhaps of satisfying the voice in his head, whispering that lips like Kira's deserved his attention sooner rather than later.

Closing his eyes, he leaned in and gave in to the urge. If his eyes were closed while kissing her, then he didn't have to think too hard about the hundreds Kira had murdered. Surprise rippled from deep inside her chest as their lips touched, rushing up and passing between them like water released into a canal. But the importance that she not be outstripped in their chess match, that he had not get too many moves ahead, outweighed her surprise. Suddenly, the contact between their lips deepened, and H felt something within him growling, a hunger only vaguely satiated, as an adolescent fantasy of a first kiss with the most beautiful girl in school was fulfilled. Fulfilled, that is, in the form of crude joke.

The kiss continued longer than H could comprehend. Far longer. At some point, there was a clicking sensation in his brain, and he was deadened to the blend of confusion, arousal, hatred and _self-_ hatred that burst forth every time he felt the tug of her lips. Of the sensation of her breath on his cheek as they broke apart before re-joining. All he could feel was a woman who, in spite of the danger, or maybe _because_ of the danger, his body willed him furiously to make his own. Instinctively, his hands reached further round Kira's waist, onto the small of her back, feeling the indents of her supple figure and then pulling her into his chest. A short, feminine moan gushed out, only to be cut off when they kissed again, gratuitously now, ravenously.

'H- Hachiman…' she rasped. _H._

'Yukino…' he murmured. _Kira._

 _I'll walk in their shoes as long as it takes,_

 _Till deep in my bones I'm sure they are one and the same,_

 _As the me who is playing the game,_

His phone buzzed. Hachiman's eyes open snapped open in an instant, no longer dulled by the devilish intoxication of Kira's making, and alive to morality and sense and thought. Had he not seen this happen in every dime-a-dozen romantic comedy? The lovers, caught up in the intensity of their first kiss, finally broken apart by some best-friend trope character calling at the wrong moment. _The lovers._

 _What the fuck am I doing?_

He glanced down, seeing the porcelain-like face of Kira still held so closely to his own. She herself glanced up, and her eyes… on numerous occasions he had tricked himself into thinking that her eyes, once a cold shade of ice blue, had turned the reddish colour of blood. Each time, he had designated it to a trick of the light, but he couldn't deny it now. They glistened like stained rubies, and her lips, still parted from the kiss but now evolving into a self-satisfied smirk, tormented his conscience. _Hachiman? Is it H or Hachiman doing this? Treating the people this psychopathic bitch has killed as if they mean nothing-_

'Are… are you going to get that, Hachiman?'

For once grateful to Kira for giving him the chance for a breather, H apologised quietly and removed his phone from his pocket.

'I- I think I'll go outside to take this, Yukino. I need to get some fresh air anyway.'

Her smirk deepened. 'Delaying already? Don't tell me you're already of, uh…' She curled her lips around the word, ' _Energy_.'

Hachiman had more self-control this time. The way she leaned against the bookshelf, her toned thighs exposed from the way her dress had rode up her legs as he'd held her, the creases in the white fabric made at his finger's behest, and the smudges of make-up around her lips… they may have begged him to close the distance and continue as if the phone were not still buzzing, but he resisted. Uttering another half-hearted apology, he turned his back and walked back around into the main room of the shop, ignoring his anger until he was stood outside in the street, panting.

It was only then, when he was outside the circumference of Kira's spell, that H could breathe in, remember who he was and his purpose, and answer the phone. _God help me. If Kira doesn't send me to hell with the Death Note, I'll end up there on my own._

It was an unnamed caller, so he fully expected it to be Komachi, calling from a friend's phone that she had lost her own or something along those lines. The call was only a timely excuse for him to regather his thoughts. _'Komachi, I don't have time to-'_

 _'No. I'm calling about your WiFi?'_

H froze. _Yuigahama?! What is she thinking, calling me at a time like this?_ Their scheme in the classroom, allowing him to get closer to Kira with the whole of Class 2F as their witness, had ensured that any contact between himself and the other half of the "H" persona became impossible. Being the serial killer's new boyfriend, he would be under the closest suspicion, and so couldn't afford to have any evidence of a connection with Yuigahama. They had specifically agreed not to call or text each other, having deleted their contact details, unless absolutely necessary. If that necessity revealed itself, the had agreed their identification would be to say they were "calling about their Wifi".

H glanced towards the door of the bookstore, checking to ensure that Kira was not in earshot. _'Yuigahama, this is really not the time. You knew that the date was today-'_

 _'I know, I- I'm sorry Hikki. S- she's not there, is she?'_

 _'No. You're lucky I went outside before taking the call…'_ He sighed. _'Just… just make it quick. It will seem suspicious if I leave her for too long.'_

 _'O- of course, it's just… I knew that your date was today and I… I was so worried about you. You said not to, but I couldn't help myself-'_

 _'Wait. You're not_ following _us, are you_ -'

 _'No. Not anymore. I was going to, but all I did was s- sit in one of the places opposite to the cafe where you and Kira were. I made sure you wouldn't be able to see me. You don't need to worry-'_

 _'I don't need to worry?!'_ He all but hissed into the phone. _'How could I not, Yuigahama? You're putting_ both _of our lives on the line-'_

 _'Hikki! Please ju- just try to listen to me! I didn't follow once you left. I knew it was too dangerous. It's just that I saw someone else who did.'_

H's felt a shot of panic rush through his body, sharp like a jolt of electricity. _'Someone following us? Who was it?'_

 _'It was her sister. Yu- Yukinoshita Haruno. The one you saw her talking with in the cafe.'_

 _Her sister?_ Unsure what to make of this information, H checked at the door of the bookshop again, before shifting his gaze to those around them in the street, paranoid. There was no sign of the second Yukinoshita sister, at least not visibly. If Yuigahama had seen her following them, then she could have been waiting in a cafe nearby, similar to what his partner had done herself. _I know Kira and her sister have a complicated relationship- their argument in the cafe was evidence enough of that- but to be following her like this? I got the impression that Kira and her mother didn't get along, and it seemed to be Haruno's job to keep their mother informed about what was happening Kira's life, but… just what kind of family is this?_

H shook his head. There was little point pondering over this when it was far more important that he return to Kira's side. She would be getting all the more suspicious the longer that he remained outside, and Haruno, as intimidating as she evidently was, could not take his life at the stroke of a pen. _Besides, it's likely that, if Haruno does choose to confront us, Kira will try to deal with her on her own._

 _'Okay… thank you, Yuigahama-san, but promise you won't try anything else-'_

 _'I promise, Hikki. In a way, it was lucky I did…'_

 _'… I need to get back in there-'_

 _'Hikki- how is it going?'_

H thought about his embrace with Kira just minutes previously, about the taste and the smell of her which still lingered, and sighed, angry at himself. _'… It's going fine, Yuigahama-san. You don't need to worry.'_

 _'B- but Hikki, wh-'_

He hung up. Hearing her voice, the voice of a person he might have called a friend in the right circumstances, was painful when compared with the rampant tension that wracked his nerves when he spoke with Kira. Setting aside his doubts, and the knowledge that Kira seemed to have more control of the situation than he, H forced himself to head back into the bookstore.

 _What does he do,_

 _Late at night when the world is sleeping?_

 _Does he see pixels not dreams?_

Kira was certain that she had never been so out of breath in her life. Once Hachiman had left the room, taking the heady blaze he had induced in her with him, she almost found herself coughing, as if she had inhaled smoke from a fire. He had reached inside her lungs, smothering her rationality, stripping her bare of thoughts and manipulations until she was not Kira, the God nor the visionary, and instead just the girl whose mouth he was making love to in the back of a bookshop. It was so naked and _human,_ so far removed from her ideals of late, that Kira found she could do nothing to dispel the trembling weakness in her knees or the wish that he come straight back inside and pin her against the shelf all over again.

She licked her lips, grinning a little, as she pulled the white dress back down to just above her knees. _I'd thought this date of his would be entertaining, but I could never imagine Hachiman, or H, would be willing to take things this far…_ Going up against someone who was willing to gamble and then gamble again, to go all in whenever they saw fit, had reserved more pleasures than she had expected, but the palpable turning of the cogs in his brain gave her far more of a thrill than the base thrill offered by any physical encounter. _It may have satisfied Yukinoshita Yukino wholly, but Kira… I know full-well that only someone like H could make me feel this. Someone who fulfilled both ends of that equation._

 _Keep it up and I may even feel_ bad _about killing you, H._

Of course, she was getting ahead of herself. If anything, Kira knew that she was naively glorifying H in her mind, when in truth the fact that a teenage boy was willing to make out with someone as beautiful as her was confirmation of absolutely nothing- except perhaps the fickle lust of the opposite sex. Not that she needed any confirmation of that; she saw it in the voyeuristic gaze of every boy whose eyes roved to her legs at Sobu High. H's identity was still concealed to her, and what with Hayama's intelligence not being too inferior to her own, in reality they were still at an impasse.

On the other hand, neither of them had backed down on either side of that aforementioned equation, and clearly, they were both terrible losers. Kira could not predict how the date was going to go, or how their game would conclude. Not in the result: make no mistake, her victory was assured. But the route to that victory could be anything.

Kira considered where she should try and push the conversation next. _Back in the cafe, we had touched on each other's family… if he were H, then that could have been an attempt to find something also about my family to manipulate, in the same way that, somehow, they had found out about my past connection with Hayama. Finding out about Hachiman's family could be helpful to me as well. Unless Hayama had just been exploiting his own knowledge-_

Her musings were cut short by the sound of the door to the bookshop opening again. The grin re-appeared on her face as Hachiman appeared again, his hair ruffled and his shirt half-untucked. She was forced to censor it back to the nervous, endeared smile that would have been unusual even for Yukinoshita Yukino.

'… H- hello again, Hachiman.'

He raised his eyebrows, at the same time looking her up and down. 'Hey again? That's rather timid, isn't it? You were just asking me if I'd run out of energy.'

Kira flushed, and not all for show. 'Did I? My, I… I suppose people really do go a bit crazy around the person they like…'

'You don't have to tell me.'

Kira sighed, resting her head against the shelf and laying her hand over her heart. 'We… we aren't going too quickly, are we? I always thought I would be more cautious about such matters. How are we to know this is…' She closed her eyes, as if in yearning. '… How are we to know this is what I hope it will be?'

Hikigaya Hachiman did not disappoint her, shifting into the role of a gentlemanly boyfriend with ease, and closing the distance between them once more. 'There is no way to know. We can only try to make that hope a reality.'

Now, she opened her eyes, savouring the return of the intimacy, and the intensity of it. '… Please, Hachiman. Try to do that with me.'

'I will.'

Seeing no reason why it would hurt, and several reasons why she would enjoy it, Kira reached up and stole another kiss from his lips. A short butterfly kiss, quickly made and quickly ended, tantalising enough to bring back the stormy desire in Hachiman's eyes which had previously ignited her own.

He bit his lips, perhaps considering whether he should touch or embrace her again. Kira dared him to do it, _wanted_ him to do it. She practically invited him with the flash-fire redness of her cheeks and the sharp intakes of her breath. This time, however, it seemed Hachiman chose not to be a victim of his instincts.

'I…' He leaned forward; Kira thought for a second he was going to return the kiss after all, but in place of that his hand rested on another book, pulling it out from behind her head. 'I haven't thought about this book for awhile. One of my favourites…'

Kira cursed internally, unable to tell whether it was out of frustration that he had not risen to the challenge, or frustration that in this moment he might find a book more interesting than her. 'Oh really? Which is it?'

They spent the next half on hour so progressing down the shelves, and then moving to the next, briefly discussing a title that one of them liked and then finding the next. If they had both read the same one, the discussion lasted a little longer, but despite their common interest in literature, an unspoken lust lay conspicuously amongst everything they said, and didn't say. More than once, Kira was sure that Hachiman's hands brushed against the side of her dress, staying there a heartbeat longer than was appropriate. Kira did nothing to discourage him, and could not imagine herself resisting him if he decided to do anything more.

At the same, heavy rain started to pound down from the Chiba sky, rattling loudly and clearly on the roof of the building. Kira had checked the weather before setting out, seeing that it had indeed been forecasted to rain at this point in the day. Finishing on the bookshelves and gravitating back towards the entrance of the shop, it suddenly occurred to Kira that this might be an issue she wasn't able to legislate for-

'Look at this,' Hachiman said disapprovingly, staring out the droplets crashing onto the shop windows like bullets. 'I don't like the idea of going out in that.'

'No. Perhaps we should stay a while longer-'

'I think we've overstayed our welcome, Yukino… I guess we just make a run for it?'

'You wouldn't happen to have anything else planned…?'

'Not especially. Mostly I wanted to show you this place, and since it's getting later… we could call it a day, if you wanted?'

 _Call it a day? Don't think you'll get off so lightly, Hachiman._

'Oh, couldn't we just spend a little more time together? A little rain won't hurt.'

Hachiman scratched his head. 'Well, I could come back to your apartment for a bit, if you'll have me? I'm right in saying your place is closer from here, isn't it?'

Kira stayed silent for a moment, calculating. Her painted smile remained fixedly in place, but it could well be that she had just made a very avoidable error of judgement. If Hachiman were H, then he had wriggled himself into a strong position- her own words opened up the possibility of her bringing him back to her apartment, in such a way that made it seem as if Kira herself were the one inviting him. No matter how intriguing their date had been, with all its twists and turns, Kira did not want a possible candidate for H anywhere near her apartment. Anywhere near the Death Note. Was it worth putting such things at risk purely to match Hachiman in their contest of who could be the most presumptuous?

Although being Hachiman's boyfriend (if they were to put labels on their counterfeit relationship), she wouldn't be able to delay him coming to her apartment for very long. And what was the danger of him being there, not only if he wasn't truly H, but if they he had no inkling of the Death Note and how she performed her judgemetns? If she was correct in assuming that H did not know of the Death Note's existence- for how could he?- then would it really do much harm to allow him into her apartment?

In the unlikely event that he did come back to Kira's place aware of her method of killing, then he would find the Death Note well protected.

'… Alright, Hachiman. Again, I find myself worried that we're moving too fast here, but alright. You may come back with me… I trust you. And… at the risk of repetition… I- I really like you.'

It was almost as if the rest of her words, as soon as the affirmation that he could come to her apartment had passed her lips, were irrelevant. His face shifted, ever so briefly, before evolving into a suitably happy smile.

'Thank you, Yukino. We'd better get going through this rain, shouldn't we?'

They stepped out of the bookshop, muttering a half-hearted thank you to the shopkeeper, and suddenly rain was drenching them from head to toe. They laughed giddily, playing their parts, and she begun leading him in the direction of her apartment, but Kira was once again struggling with the sense that she had taken a potentially fatal misstep without even realising it. _There is so little chance this could affect me… Hachiman would have to not only be H, but to have somehow deduced that a weapon like the Death Note could be in my possession. No. H has been a quick-witted adversary, but that would be outside his capability._

 _Hard to be true,_

 _Always right,_

 _All that promise keeping,_

 _Harder I'm sure than it seems,_

H could scarcely believe it had been so easy. _I thought us trying to outdo each other would come in handy, but I never imagined she would be_ this _headstrong._ Implying that he did not know about the Death Note during their debate over email had proven more helpful than he thought. Running through the rain, his hand in Kira's, it occurred to H that she would be unlikely to sacrifice ground like this to him again. This could well be his only chance to prise the Death Note from her grasp.

 _In the end, this will be your hamartia, won't it? Arrogance is so often what crowns the end, Kira._

 _And if you insist on giving me this chance… then I'll do everything in my power to take it._


End file.
